Will you go out with me? Graves junior parkrun on National Get Outside Day.

Digested read: volunteered at Graves junior parkrun today.  It was awesome!

Undigested read:

National ‘Get Outside Day‘ Oh GOD!  Is that really a thing?  I mean apparently so accordingtofacebooksoitmustbetrue.  Never heard of it, but it seems that today, Sunday 29th September has been declared National Get Outside Day!  They said so on the (very marvellous) Let’s Go Peak District Facebook page and even put an enticing image on it to emphasise both the point, and the unambiguous loveliness of the great outdoors.

What could possibly go wrong?

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

Apart from apocalyptic weather.  This is what the great outdoors looked like to me at 8.00 o’clock this morning.

Still, the thing is, there is still no better place to be on a Sunday morning than a junior parkrun.  Granted, in an ideal world it would always be Graves junior parkrun, but for those of you not fortunate enough to live within either the catchment area of Graves park, or to be able to commute to it, there are other junior parkruns available, they too offer up their own unique fun factories, whatever the weather!

I was a late signee for volunteering duties this weekend.  I’ve had a bad back (lawks-a-lordy that makes me sound both aged and decrepit, both of which adjectives I’m currently inclined to ‘own’ as is the current zeitgeist).  I wasn’t sure I’d be up for it.  Also, the weather.  Ooooooooooooooooooh my loooooooooooooord.  Did you see the forecast?  Basically torrential rain ALL DAY.  Not just all day, but I think for all eternity.  I wasn’t over keen.  But then again, I very much prefer dramatic weather to low key miserableness.  There might be an anecdote in it.  Storms and torrential rain might be pretty awesome, as long as I was dressed for it.  Graves park is its own micro-climate, and whatever weather is happening in Sheffield more broadly you have to multiply the wind speed by 100 and drop the temperature by 20 degrees and add in snow, fire, ice and flood to get a more accurate indicator of what to expect.  FACT.*  Never a dull moment up at Graves.  Anyways, when I did send my rather late in the day email to offer up my services to graves-juniorshelpers@parkrun.com the Run Director (it’s a run not a race even more so at junior parkrun) he promised glorious sunshine and chortled at the nonsensical and alarmist rumour mill that included  “earlier on today, apparently, someone said they heard there was a hurricane on the way, well, don’t worry, there isn’t!”  As if!  The sun always shines at junior parkrun.  Ha ha, might have caught out Mr Fish – or might not, depending on what you choose to believe – (he did say it though, YouTube never lies) but definitely not our RD.  Guaranteed sunshine it would be, or your money back.  Count me in.

Besides, volunteers bring their own sunshine with them wherever they go, here are some of them from today, basking in it.  Lovely indeed.

So it was, alarm went off at stupid o’clock, not that it really needed to.  The rain had been battering on my attic window all night.  I was half expecting to find myself marooned in my roof space, rising waters surrounding the entire house.  It wasn’t though, although it was definitely exceedingly wet.  Waterproof over trousers it would be.  Not only waterproof trousers, other clothing as well, but just an extra top layer.  Woolly hat too.

I ventured out.  Yep, definitely raining.  Got to Graves park car park.  Pretty much deserted apart from the RDs car, we’re on then.  I got my ticket for the car park and then sat in the car waiting to the RD to appear out of the rain, which he duly did, dragging the all important kit wheelie bin with him.  We were ON!

Other core team members started to emerge from the mist, and, each furnished with newly laundered and fresh smelling fluorescent tabards (comes under ‘any other duties’ for the RD of whichever week apparently)…

we divvied up the set up tasks and off we went about our hi-vis business.  Astonishingly though, and this is indeed nigh on miraculous and proves that Mr P S-H does absolutely have supernatural powers, it had basically stopped raining.  I know, amazing!

Distinctly damp yes, but no longer a need to actively wear life-saving floats or other buoyancy aids prior to entering the park.  Better yet, we even had some early arrivals to the Graves junior parkrun ball, so what with a venue, volunteers and hardy parkrunners that was it, we had all the necessary ingredients for a fab event. We would make it so!

I set off as is my way, to do course set up.  I  enjoy this, it’s a refreshing stomp round the 1km route to clear your head and you always see cool stuff.  Gorgeous trees whatever the season, sometimes parakeets, today a bedraggled fluffed up robin, sheltering in amongst the red berries of a hawthorn tree.  There are challenges of course.   Carrying all those signs is harder than you might think, though I’ve developed an idiosyncratic knack of sorts:

I’m not going so far as to say I’ve perfected the art, but I have found my own pathway through.  The real challenge is with the parkrun tape, putting it in place around the lake to try to deter participants from running into the water.  The capacity of small children to run into inanimate objects is extraordinary, and the tape seems a modest barrier, but, alongside attentive marshals and accompanying adults has worked to date.  That’s good.  Disentangling the officially sanctioned parkrun tape is however really tough.  It’s also somewhat contrary, some days you effortlessly unfurl the tape as if unwinding a silken ribbon from a fairy’s spool – or like I imagine that would be, I’ve never actually experienced that to be fair.  On other occasions it’s a veritable Gordian knot, especially if you are in a hurry, have spectators or are trying to show a rookie volunteer how easy course set up is.

Got there in the end. Phew.  The distance shot is taken at a parkrun earlier in the year 10th Feb to be precise, but I realised to my horror, I’d failed to snap my handywork in action today.  I was also responsible for that fine tape work earlier in the year though, so I think the inclusion of this shot for illustrative purposes is probably fair enough in the circumstances.

You get to say hello to other hardy park users, and to admire the wildlife and livestock.  Next to the pond are often some guinea fowl in amongst the waterfowl, protected by a fence.  They are sort of 3D / 2D birds.  From the front they are most definitely three dimensional, but from the side, they look absolutely flat.  Honestly they do, go check it out.  Nope, no photos – hang on, that’s what google is for…

Hmm, not sure if it entirely captures what I mean, you have to see them for real.  Honestly, side view, like a cartoon drawing, then head on, a perfect sphere.  This pleases me, the amazing 2D/ 3D guinea fowl.  Awesome.  Some sort of optical illusion, perhaps induced by the extreme contrast in the two perspectives.  I look wide from both angles, but then I’m not a guinea fowl.

Carried on with course set up.  Oooh, Humungous puddle on the way to the entrance to the animal farm!  That’s not going to stop our junior parkrunners though, that’ll just add to the fun, a splish sploshing opportunity to enjoy not fear!

oh, mustn’t forget about change in access route from next week – wasn’t too confident how that would unfold (I know, I know, ‘ye of little faith and all that) but no time to fret about that because oh look!  A highland coo!  One of the highlights of Graves for junior and 5k parkrunners alike!  Not sure why this one is being kept away from the others, could be a promotion or a demotion due to illness, or injury, who knows?

Despite my ambivalence about animals in captivity generally, and the sanitisation of how farm animals are kept, it is nevertheless pretty cool to see the critters in the morning. Today they were drenched, and a bit put out to be honest.  For whatever reason, breakfast was clearly late, and most came to check me out in case I’d brought along a bucket of alfalfa pellets, or whatever along with my flags, and looked exceedingly unimpressed when it became clear I hadn’t.  Messed with my head a bit.  They galloped over ecstatic at the sight of me as I first came into view and then disdainfully – petulantly even – went off in search of a more promising candidate for breakfast service.  I understand their point of view, I need to learn to handle rejection better.  I’m just saying, if you’ve not been pointedly ignored by a trio of llamas you’ve never really been ignored at all.  Love the piglets though.  Warthogs will always be my favourites, but pigs hold a pretty fine second place in my heart.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Up through the park, nice cone work in evidence from my fellow course setter upperers

One of the big container planters was a bit in the way of the course, but we couldn’t move it, basic physics really, it was full of water from the rain. Still, seems junior parkrunners are a svelte lot, they managed to negotiate the narrow space into the car park without incident.  Wonders will never cease.  They run into marshals and the sides of buildings often enough.  Still, all good today.

It took me longer than usual to set up, partly because of the Gordian knot, partly because of the standing water everywhere, partly because of my back and partly because I got distracted by the animals.  By the time I got back to the mustering area, there was a pleasing assembly of people, and the first timers’ briefing was just starting.  That’s one of my favourite roles at junior parkrun, so much eager anticipation and excitement and so much parkrun good will.  Not for me today though, someone else had the giddy joy of delivering that.

I put the final arrow in place in the finish funnel, and checked out the other hi-vis heroes newly arrived.  The mist was thickening. Strictly speaking every child is in view of a marshal at all times, it was however looking like we might struggle to see our hands in front of our faces if this trend continued.  Oh well.  What’s the worst…

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Back to the start, all happening now…

It is always so worth rocking up to junior parkrun.  The weather may have been inclement, but it takes more that an arctic blast and world ending downpours to deter our juniors, particularly when they are to be running their 100th parkrun and have a balloon to accompany them en route by way of marking the occasion.  Anyway, it wasn’t raining.  It might be a stretch to say it was glorious sunshine beating down on us, but, as already explained, we’d brought our own sunshine along with us, parkrunners always do!  Plus flamboyant rainbow golfing umbrellas are guaranteed to lift your mood.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

More juniors and accompanying adults rocked up, but always time for an attempt at a selfie.  Really, I prefer to leave selfies to experts such as Smiley Selfie Queen, but in her absence we didn’t do too badly – if by ‘not doing too badly’ you mean we captured our gurning selves within the frame of the lens.  Anything else a bonus.  We also managed to alternate wide-eyed wide-mouthed deranged-demeanours with one another, which, dear reader, you must concede is good work.

back to the main business in hand, and the RD briefing.  It seemed like fewer people than usual, not entirely surprising, but it was a keen and attentive crowd.  We kicked off with a big round of applause for the parkrunners themselves this week.  ‘Our junior athletes’ no less!  Normally, the applause is for all the volunteers – and of course individual milestones and wrist band achievers, but in the elements today, the junior participants earned their recognition for turning out.  Usual rules and awards,

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Also, good news!  We are the only junior parkrun in the UK, probably in the world over, that gets to run through an animal farm. This is a great USP and quite a privilege.  New rules from next month mean the path through the animal park is going to be shut from Monday – oh no!  However, expert negotiation has secured the Graves junior parkrun special dispensation to continue running the same parkrun route as always for a trial period at least – as long as all participants make sure they only run though.  So no stopping to interact with the animals on the way round.  That’s OK, plenty of time to scratch a goats jaw afterwards, through the ‘official’ entrance, and excellent news for Graves junior parkrun as there isn’t any really viable alternative route as it’s hardly health and safety gone mad not to want to have 4 year olds running through an active car park.  That could quickly negate the positive effects of exercising outdoors, doesn’t take a genius to realise cars and children don’t mix.  Although you might think so, the way some drivers behave dropping off their precious cargo outside school gates in the morning in cow bar adorned 4 by 4s.  Terrifying.

Next base, warm up!  I was documenting this rather than participating, but in my head I was doing the swimming exercise with particular aplomb, and I reckon the hula hooping looked fun too.  Yay, go junior parkrunners, you are awesome!

Then a slidey trudge to the start line up:

Under starters order, with volunteers lined up like so many tenpins on a bowling lane, the tunnel of fear, and GO!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The front runners sprint past!  Others skip, trundle and weave.  All are brilliant.  There can be no more joy-filled scene to behold on a Sunday morning.  Honestly, in dark times, this spectacle will lift the most hardened and embittered of hearts. FACT.**

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Gone.  Disappeared into the midst.  Oops.  Perhaps we should have counted them all out, in order that we could count them all back.  Never mind, too late now!

parkrun underway, cue the Reservoir Dogs routine as hi-vis wearers move to their new stations.

It’s a two lap course.  I was on the entrance of the finish funnel, to try to ensure everyone did the required two laps and didn’t enter the funnel unless they had.  To encourage runners and to shoo away parents from the funnel.  Well, except in exceptional circumstances.  Sometimes at the end you get some really scared juniors, we aren’t completely heartless, and can exercise discretion if faced with distraught participants who have completed the run quite happily, but are then overwhelmed by the sight of a veritable fluorescent army of towering scary looking marshals!  How are they to know they are entirely benign?  Well, for the most part…  some of the warm up sessions can be quite full on!

It’s quite fun, because you do get to see all the runners at least once before you have to leap into full funnel management mode, and so get a little bit of the stories of some of the participants as they complete their first lap.  The ones who are digging deep, the ones who smile the whole way round.  The knowing ones who like to be photographed, the ones who seem to be running in their pyjamas/ fancy dress/ favourite dinosaur or skeleton shirt (why not, I would if I could).  I was pleased to see the balloon was still attached to the 100th event runner.  One junior wanted to finish at one lap, but I explained she couldn’t come in the funnel unless she’d done two, but there was still time.  Negotiations went on. The outcome was unclear.  Oh no, had I done the right thing, or had I morphed into Cruella De Ville.  Still, rules is rules, and it would have messed up the timings something chronic if one-lappers in the finish funnel started to be a thing.  With great power comes great responsibility it seems, I wore the mantle heavily.   Still, at least I didn’t have to wear an actual mantel, that would have been worse, particularly with my back in the sorry state it is at present.

Before you know it, the first finishers are hurtling round.  Blimey, they weren’t deterred by the mud!  Sprinting to the finish at breakneck speeds.  Astonishingly, I didn’t see any either face plant or backslide in the finish funnel, more luck than my dulcit tones imploring them to take care.  I did see one really spectacular slide – but that was of a parent, racing to get a barcode to their offspring.  Good recovery if I may say so.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The RD surveyed all, deep in profound contemplation…

probably, he might have just been thinking about what to have for lunch later though.

I know you shouldn’t have favourites… . I don’t really, but even so, can we have a special mention for the two runners who finished holding hands together, and also for the brave parkrunner who, having been turned away from the finish funnel after lap one, did indeed go on to complete lap two.  Powered by haribos, she even achieved a sprint finish.  I got something in my eye watching those moments.  It happens a lot at junior parkrun.  Also, the parkrunner who had to stop for a pee after the first lap, also made it back out on the route and completed the run.  Yay!  Catastrophe averted.

Good news, our 100th junior parkrunner completed his parkrun too – we should give an anticipatory shout out to his sister who will be doing the same next Sunday.  Luckily the family have practised how to celebrate properly ready to up their game even further next week.  For today, they celebrated with ace star jumps.  This is the junior parkrun way!  It would be the 5k parkrun way too if it was down to me, but I recognise I need to win hearts and minds to bring that about over time…

And then, in what seemed no time at all, the tail walker came into view, and that was that, parkrun done, we could all stand down.  Just a question of dismantling the course and we would be good to go.  There was one anxious moment when we nearly lost the RD for next week.  She momentarily took leave of her senses, contemplating retrieving some cones from the bottom of the kit wheelie bin. This was contraindicated for her on account of her height, which is on the petite end of the continuum.  If she’d disappeared head first into the bin that would have been the end of her, never seen her again.  And with fewer adventures than Alice down the rabbit hole, and more complaints about how surprising it was to fine our normally reliable RD a ‘no show’ and why was the wheelie bin seeming to be a bit heavier than usual and why are there some stiffened legs sticking out of it?  No worries, junior parkrun is about nothing if not team work.  A taller marshal was sourced, and saved the day by effortlessly reaching in to retrieve said cones. Crisis averted.  Especially good news as it’s her birthday next week!  Happy Birthday awesome one!

Team work is fun you know.  And you know what, you should really have a stab at volunteering if you haven’t already done so.  If you have, and so already discovered for yourself that volunteering at regular parkrun is fun, then volunteering at junior parkrun will blow your mind, so much so, you must understand you undertake such a role at your own risk.  FACT***  Clangers would be ace at marshalling, they have innate cheeriness already on tap, but you too could harness and channel your inner clanger by joining whatever parkrun team is in striking distance for you.  Go on!  It will be splendid!  Which one will you be?  Actually, I might be a froglet…

Adjourned to the cafe for results processing and token sorting.  Normally I bagsy token sorting, but I was sacked gazumped on this occasion, so instead took on busy and important supervisory duties.  I must have supervised brilliantly – assisted by a junior parkrunner stationed at the opposite end of the table – as results were processed, tokens sorted and stashed and thank you texts to volunteers all sent out by 9.45.  A record surely?  Like I said before, team work.

So there you go, job done, all done and dusted for another week.  Oh no, ages to wait.  Still, if you want to prolong your parkrun fix, you can read all my parkrun related posts here.  Or not.  It’s up to you.  You’ll need to scroll down for older entries though.

I shall miss my junior parkrun fix next Sunday, but it’s for a good cause.  I’m joining Bushy parkrun for their 15th Birthday celebrations and International parkrun day.  It’s going to be SO EXCITING!  The park looks like this:

I know this, because this picture was taken by Sue Lindenberg in Bushy park just yesterday in the early morning by the Leg Of Mutton pond in the park.  Granted, she has photography skills a tad superior to my own, but that’s a pretty stunning location whatever talent you have behind the lens.  Can’t wait!

So happy parkrunning people.  Share the parkrun love.

Oh, and yes, on balance, I think it was worth getting outside for today.  Funny thing is, it always is!  Get Outside Day or not.  Good to know.

🙂

*When I say FACT, I mean Lucy fact, i.e. what I choose to believe.  Works for me.  You’re welcome.

** as above

*** also as above

PS I’ve been careful in the photos I’ve used, but if anyone wants any removing, then let me know, and I’ll happily delete.

Right behind you all the way – tail walking tales from Graves parkrun

Digested read: tail-walking at Graves parkrun today.   Most educational.

Undigested read:

Yes, well, bit stream of consciousness today, but then, I wasn’t originally going to do a post about this particular parkrun.  Well, it’s one of my locals, and I’ve posted about Graves parkrun a fair few time before – and then I was just because.  But, spoiler alert, you might find this post to be even more parkrun-lite at times than usual.  The blogging reflex was instigated by my being at parkrun I readily concede, but the in terms of actual content, the linkage may be tenuous at best.  You might still enjoy scrolling through the pictures from today though.  Or you might not, because I have no innate photographic talent, but then again I was there, and might therefore offer up not so much the ‘least worst’ option, but the only available  photojournalistic documentation of the occasion.  Quite a responsibility on my part you’ll agree.  On the plus side, it will make you appreciate our fabulous, dedicated and regular Sheffield parkrun photographers even more – if such a thing is possible.  Also, maybe in the future my blurred offerings will seem innovative and genre challenging, you never know*.  Here is a taster to get you in the mood.  In my defence he was running awfully fast… faster than a speeding bullet at the very least.  Even Mr Carman would have struggled.**

I like to manage expectations.  I think I’ve achieved that with the image above.

It’s been a very educational and pretty mind blowing few days to be honest.  Only yesterday, just before I had a flu jab, the pharmacist asked me if I was allergic to formaldehyde.  I said ‘surely everyone’s allergic to formaldehyde?‘ I mean, you don’t want to get a vial of that injected into your arm do you, even to protect you from the worst horrors of the latest strain of flu.  The vaccine however apparently includes this.  Only the smallest of trace elements I’m sure, allowing for the potential of some sort of homeopathic poisoning, falling into anaphylactic shock as a consequence of an underdose perhaps.  Even so, it seems allergy to formaldehyde is in fact a ‘thing’ raising the question of whether you can be similarly ‘allergic’ to strychnine.  It seems bizarre.  I know what they mean, an allergic response is a different biological phenomenon to that of poisoning, and I daresay the trigger quantities are entirely different but honestly who knew?  Unless you are a pharmacist or other medical specialist.  Just shows how every day has the potential to be a learning day.   This can be enlightening, but also terrifying.

I’ll get to the point eventually.

What if you discover that you are unwittingly in possession of a super power.  An ability to change history, and so influence the future in ways that are impossible to predict or control?  What’s more, that you have been unleashing anarchy for years, not so much a butterfly flapping its wings, but a crazed individual who has been carelessly lobbing grenades with untold potential to distort and contort future event,s without the slightest insight into what you’d been doing.  If a small change in one state of a deterministic nonlinear system can result in large differences in a later state, then the cumulative impact of multiple changes could be almost infinite.  Gulp.  What. Have. I. Done?

I know, scary.

Case in point, as I was tail walking at Graves parkrun today, I snapped away, trigger happy (with the camera button, not an actual gun, I’m not insane) and took photos en route.  It helps me remember each parkrun, and digital cameras allow an excess of photos to be taken.  If you get enough quantity, you never know, the occasional lucky quality picture might just sneak in.  I’m never 100% sure of photo sharing etiquette in public places.  But I’ve come to think as long as you are obvious and not sneaky in taking pictures it’s very apparent if people object to one being taken.  And I also have a personal rule that I delete any horrifically unflattering photos – the sort I wouldn’t want to see of myself – unless, and this is crucial, the hilarity induced by its inherent comedic value clearly outweighs the risk of personal humiliation to the subject of the shot.  This rule has I think served me well.  I’ll always delete a picture if requested to do so, so that’s a reasonable back-up plan.  Anyway, at the end of the parkrun, I just checked in with the core team about whether photo sharing would be ok, and explained about my unwritten personal rule.  Comedic talent v personal humiliation, and far from their agreement to me sharing them on this basis being given as a formality it was pointed out to me that this would never do.  It might not in fact be a good approach to take.  It could be, that the act of deleting photos was like trying to tamper with history.  In doing so I would basically be messing with the time/space continuum and this could have catastrophic results, not so much life changing for me necessarily (although, that too, obvs) but epoch altering.

We’re all familiar with what might happen from Star Trek and Dr Who, surely.  And for the more literally minded, even the most casual reader of either Nineteen Eighty-Four or Brave New World must know, to rewrite history is a dangerous thing.  I have my 1981 ‘O’ level English Lit syllabus to thank for that insight.

We are right now living in a time where it seems a regime will indeed go ‘to any lengths to own and possess history, to rewrite and construct it, and to inculcate it by means of coercion.’ (thanks Christopher Hitchens for the quote, written in in the introduction to his 1999 article “Why Americans Are Not Taught History”, which I’ve lifted for here).  Where is my moral compass set if I start deleting photos because that version of what happened sits uncomfortably me.   What about my responsibilities as a guardian of the truth?  As someone who likes to document things, my travels in Cambodia and Vietnam as well as my running scared adventures, this messes with my head.  Living in the world as we would like it be, as opposed to the world as it is, requires each of us to take responsibility, and that must surely include a respect for truth and, another thing, not messing with the space/ time continuum and so inadvertently altering the course of history.  Whoa.  Scary times.  And I didn’t think it was possible for the world to feel any more frightening a space to inhabit than it does right now.

You see my problem.  How to document a morning at parkrun, where each of the 286 runners and umpteen volunteers and supporters will have a different version of ‘the truth’.  No wonder I have writer’s block.  And what about the pictures, should they stay or should they go?  It’s been a tough call.  Is it a personal or shared responsibility to be a chronicler of history.  Is there any such thing as objective truth anyway?***

Back to basics.

Graves parkrun is definitely one of my favourite runs, not even just of the Sheffield ones, but more widely too.  Sheffield Hallam parkrun is strictly speaking my home run, but it has got quite crowded and lacks highland cows.  I’ve been doing a fair bit of touristing of late and so fancied staying closer to home this week.  Also, a friend was doing her 25th Volunteering stint there, it would be good to support that.  I’ve been quite poorly, no idea what, but hurrah for the NHS and their probing and scanning and imaging apparatus as well as fab straff.  Upshot was, I wasn’t really up to running a parkrun, but figured I ought to be able to walk it… hopefully – what’s more fate decreed there was a gap in the tailwalking role on the volunteer roster.  It was meant to be!  I’m wanting to get to 50 parkruns this year if I can,  (gold badge for running challenges to add to my bronze and silver and so complete the virtual set) and so don’t want to miss any.  I have missed two this year so far, despite attending a parkrun on all saturdays to date.  One was cancelled a bit last minute,  and I was too witless to check prior to arriving there and then it was too late to go elsewhere.  Oh well, it happens, I feel for the event teams who only cancel in desperation.  On the other occassion I was watching at Bushy parkrun with my celebrity mum, at her very own Elisabeth’s corner, it’s quite an experience.  She, as you know dear reader is officially parkrun Royalty.  More Queen Elisabeth of parkrun than even these two Queen Elizabeth parkruns.  Wish I’d thought to make a load of fridge magnets years ago.  Cool plan though by the QEs.  parkrun kudos to them!  Let’s just agree there are three Queen Eliz/sabeths in the parkrun chronicles.  Loving the waving across the world initiative though, and I’ve always believed fancy dress at parkrun (or indeed in life) to be a boon.  Anyways, check out their international parkrun friendship story, and see how geographical miles can be vanquished by a parkrun wave across the waves.  No really, check it out 🙂   Queen Elizabeth parkrun (Horndean, UK) and Queen Elizabeth Casino parkrun (Australia) united.

where was I?  Oh yes, so the upshot was I missed, not really missed, but not recorded on the Running Challenges stats, two this year, so reaching 50 feels quite tight.  The Running Challenges chrome extension is fab, and weirdly compelling, with somewhat addictive potential.  It shouldn’t be the be all and end all of parkrun, but it is a fun tool for choosing where to go next….

This time though, Graves parkrun.  And then MORE GOOD NEWS (it was so meant to be) the Tring Travellers would be honoring Graves parkrun with their presence.  Oh good.  Catch up time.  parkrun and the vagaries of the internet bringing random people together.  Not quite as impressive as the link from Australia to the UK, but jolly impressive and pleasing all the same!

A while back the Graves course changed, I prefer it, it’s probably more challenging, finishing up a steep hill, but very much more picturesque.  I double checked the route.  Last time I tail walked it I was quite far behind the throng – having a lovely time admittedly, as the unadulterated photos from the February day show:

but got a bit confused about where the first loop went and the turnaround spot, didn’t want a repeat of that.  So to be clear, it now looks like this according the the Graves parkrun website course description blah de blah:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

and is described thus:

Course Description
A 2 lap course which starts on the path next to the main car park. From the start, a short flat section leads to a long shallow downhill behind the cafe. A sharp rise gives way to a sweeping descent through the treeline, before emerging at the lakeside and taking on another short hill. The course then loops all the way around the cricket pitch before heading uphill once again between the cow fields, in the direction of the historic Norton Hall. Following a sharp descent, the route splits, on lap one, a circuit of the east lake is undertaken; whereas on lap two, runners take the shorter option between the lakes. The course come back together for a final ascent of the hill towards the cafe, before hitting the finish straight on the ridge line.
Please note Graves parkrun requires that all dogs be kept on a short lead, held in the hand of the runner at all times during the event.

Yeah, don’t worry, just follow everyone else, or the way the marshals are pointing, and you’ll be fine.

I arrived at Graves park early.  As is my way.  Just in case you have inexplicably missed my previous posts about Graves and are checking it out for the first time, there is paid parking from 9.30 – free before.  50p for an hour and £1 for two.  Bargain.  Parking isn’t ample, but sufficient, and as I’m always paranoiacally early, I’ve never had a problem.  There are loos too, outside the Rose Cafe (which I think opens from 9.00 and has superior indoor loos) so precautionary pee or emergency pees are possible without the indignity of having to rush behind a bush.  You need change though – for the car park, not the loos.

Graves park has its own microclimate, so ignore whatever the forecasts say and dress for plague, blizzard, apocalyptic rain, whatever.  Be aware that if you do, there will suddenly be a localised blistering heat wave, or earth scraping wind, it is the Graves Park way.

I may be always early, but my milestone pacing friend was even earlier.  I could see her with a friend, down by the meet up bench where the core team muster early and the parkrunners themselves a little later.  She’s deaf, and so I’d tried to learn the sign for ‘hello’ and ‘good morning’, so as soon as she spotted me I gesticulated in what I hoped was an appropriate way.  I’m not sure how accurate I was, but the sentiment was clear, and also, it’s very pleasing that with sign language you can actually communicate over a greater distance than you can shout.  Excellent.  With her was a signer, who was volunteering for the morning, as lots of this high-vis heroes deaf running friends were also coming from near and far to join the celebrations.  Cool.

A little later, the RD appeared, and hi-vis tabards were distributed.  Roles allocated, Graves parkrun runs like a well-oiled machine these days it seems.  I was pleased to see more familiar faces, it’s worth staying home in Sheffield now and again to catch up with folk.  Also, conspiratorially share secrets.  I know, a teaser, but hang on in there, you’ll find out soon enough.   Congratulations to the junior parkrun co-volunteer still flushed with success (and a few aching muscles) from the Sheffield 10k last weekend.  Yay.  Awesome.  Also a multi-tasker, able to run and smile at the same time.  Surely a skill honed at parkrun?

So there was milling and chilling and meeting and greeting.  Mountains of cake arrived for the celebrations, parkrunners appeared seemingly from nowhere to congregate around the start.  RD briefing was given, with accompanying signing, I particularly like the ‘jazz hands’ that replace applause to signify thanks.  Awesome.

I didn’t take any photos at this point. I wasn’t planning on doing a post about this parkrun at this point, so didn’t see the point. However, fortuitously others did, here is a shot of the deaf parkrunners from near and far – Huddersfield, Leeds and Wakefield who came to celebrate with their friend and mine.  Also my namesake, we are mutually blessed.  Here they are, either before or after the parkrun, but posing rather brilliantly with both the RD and the all important parkrun sign.  Good job.  Glad someone was concentrating.

All in line, and I positioned myself at the back of the pack.  There were a couple of people even further behind which confused me.  Both looked like speedy runners, and had speedy hounds with them, they choose to start at the back and then enter the throng once underway, no point in positioning myself behind them or I’d never see the back of the run again, they’d be overtaking me in an instant!

And soon enough awf!

It was a fairly sedate start from the rear.  There were a couple of people who looked like they were walking companionably so I left a bit of space.  Tailwalking is an art rather than a science.  I know from being at the back of many organised events I actually find it quite stressful if a sweeper is right on my tail, so err on the side of the respectful distance unless it looks like someone is happy for company or on their own.  I resolved I’d wait a bit and then see if they wanted me alongside once they’d settled in.  In fact, I was so distracted by interacting with marshals and other park users and taking photos and trying to manage my own pain that I didn’t really catch up with them until we were nearly at the end of the first lap.  I hadn’t factored that in. You’d think I’d know better, one of my most challenging volunteering positions ever was as tailwalker at junior parkrun.  It’s a two lap course, and some junior participants inevitably drop out after one. That’s completely fine, but it does mean you have to do a mad sprint to catch up with the rest of the pack once the others have retired.  I’ve run faster doing that then I ever have on an actual run, and learned from bitter experience one should always wear a sports bra when tail walking, the walking moniker is not always strictly accurate!

So off I went, you start off down a hill and through the trees, the timers and RD were marching towards the finish funnel, the event temporarily out of their hands now parkrunners were go!

It was nice at the back.  Contemplative.  The hound dogs various quickly raced by, as predicted.  Also faster than a speeding bullet you’ll agree…

Quite soon, you are at the base of the hill, and friendly marshals are on hand to direct, encourage and assist.  I hadn’t entirely registered it at this, but a full circuit of the course revealed that every marshal had some sort of assistant or prop, or, as in this case, a pint-sized supervisor to keep order.  The supervisor in this location took the opportunity to alert me to the presence of a loose dog, that was being searched for by a concerned owner.  No sooner had she passed this information to me, a man and his re-acquired dog, now back on a lead – reappeared.  His dog had just wanted to join in all the parkrun fun it seems, but was thwarted in doing so because that wasn’t on his human companions agenda for the day.  You can’t really blame the dog in such circumstances, why wouldn’t it want to join in, parkrun is indeed a lot of fun.  In the circumstances I think it showed considerable restraint returning to its human at all.

Thank you first marshals of the morning.  Loving your work.

Ooh, with the canine interruption, I was a bit far back, sprinting on, oops, that’s up a hill then, quite a steep one, sprinting contraindicated.  Then at the top of the hill, good news, another smiling marshal, this one equipped with a canine assistant, equipped with their own high-vis.

Obviously I had to say hello.  Particularly as I’d been lucky enough to meet this particular hound earlier, being given temporary custody and control whilst the accompanying human was donning high vis.   I can therefore report as absolute fact, that this dog has the softest ears ever.  So greeting were enthusiastically exchanged, and then oops, lost the back of the pack again, so quick sprint(ish) and round towards the lake area.

and oh good, up the hill, and another marshal to stop you veering off too soon.  Another marshal, another hound.  This one also in high-vis.  Hopefully parkrun branded canine hi-vis will follow in due course we agreed.  Me and the human handler, not me and the dog.  Don’t be ridiculous, I can’t talk dog.   Like I said, you have to have an assistant, supervisor, dog, child or prop to marshal on this course.  I’m not sure how this is enforced exactly, but perhaps it’s just a general understanding, with occasional dispensations depending on your particular circumstances?

Had to stop for a bit to say hello, obvs, but strode onwards and upwards to the high point marshal.  He had the good fortune of a tree to shelter under, though you’d be pretty exposed up there in the wind.  What’s this?  No dog?  No child?  Like I said, there must be the occasional dispensation.  Fair dos.

My camera can’t cope with parkrun high-vis so just getting that excuse in while I can, but the thing is, you can’t change history, it’s dangerous to do so.  Tamper at your peril.  That’s what I’ve learned since.

Trit trot off to the right and a lovely expansive view down the hill, towards the huge wrought iron gated entrance at the far end of the park.  I say far end, I suppose strictly speaking that would depend on which end you typically approach and enter Graves park from, but I’m going with the ‘far end’ because this blog post is all about me and how I see everything.  Sorry about that.****  I seemed to have fallen even further back, not as agile as I’d hoped, I hate being injured/ poorly.  Did you know that stopping exercise (e.g. running) for as little as two days can contribute to low mood/ depression.  I can believe it.  What’s more, this is more pronounced in women.  Interesting.

I scampered onwards. Couple of cool things, I saw a bright green parakeet flap across the cricket pitch.  I’ve noticed them before squawking away in the trees down near the bottom entrance of the animal farm, but they do seem to be spreading out more.  I’m quite blasé about parakeets as  I’m from the south where they are naturalised almost to the extent of grey squirrels.  You see great flocks of them at Bushy parkrun in amongst the red deer and unicorns.  I don’t have too much of a problem with that, as those are managed landscapes anyway, but I’m a bit worried if they are making their way up north, they are certainly spectacular, but must negatively impact on native British wildlife for sure.  Oh well.  The other fun thing, was that you can see the faster runners storming round the far side of the cricket pitches in a colourful ribbon of milestone tees, race shirts and bravely close fitting lycra.  You can’t tell this from the photo I concede, but maybe if you squint and use your imagination.

You’ll need to use your imagination a bit more than that.

Can’t change history after all…

Eventually I was at the gate, where the marshal was accompanied by the required pooch.  Not gonna lie, this dog was actually rather cute.  It was just SO EXCITED to see me.  Well, admittedly, to see absolutely anyone passing by, and desperate for a bit of hello.  I’m shallow, so any animate being (or even inanimate object in truth) that shows delight at seeing me will absolutely melt my heart.  It’s horrifying to think how easy I would be to manipulate, just a small crumb of attention and you’ll have my undying loyalty.

So then here I was delayed by exchange of greetings, and also by a park user who I thought for a moment was going to complain about parkrun but actually was just very curious about what it was all about.  So I paused to explain a bit about the event and the ethos and encouraged her to think about maybe joining in herself some time. I’m not sure if she will, but she seemed positive about the whole parkrun vibe, so that’s a win.

Off again, past the cricket storage area.  Nice mural there I think, and a brief flat section alongside an overflowing ditch – that rain has really transformed the landscape, before the next heave ho up hill

It was just before the hill that I started to be lapped by the front runners.  They were a courteous as well as speedy lot.   Some managed to shout out encouragement as the whizzed on by.  I like that you get to see the faster runners on multi-lap courses.   Some of them are amazing to watch.  A few make it look effortless, but some demonstrate that I maybe could try a bit harder myself, as they are giving it everything, whereas I tend to veer on the side of caution keeping much in reserve just in case.  Just in case of what I’m not entirely sure – just in case they make me do another lap say?  Unlikely if I really think about it.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I did a great job of photographing the litter bin didn’t I?  Good to know I can get something in focus, even if it’s just park furniture.

Onwards and upwards.  At the top of the hill, another cheery marshal but one inexplicably without a dog or other assistant.  Maybe it’s not a requirement for ones situated under trees?  She was in fine form clapping parkrunners with enthusiasm.  Clapping is a tricky one, based on my experience, once you start clapping parkrunners you feel obligated to continue until everyone has passed for fear of demoralising those most in need by stopping just as they come into range.  However, it’s way more strenuous than you might think, you have to pace yourself or it’s an exhausting work out that will leave you unable to move your arms again for the whole of the following week at least. This is tricky, as not all employers are impressed by a self-certified sick note giving cause of incapacity and inability to present at work as clapping related repetitive stress injury.  It’s like breaking a little toe or getting flu, only those of us who’ve experienced the real thing can truly empathise appropriately.  Just saying though, excellent work.  Maybe that’s why no dog come to think of it. Holding a lead whilst trying to clap would be really tough.

From here, you turn off and run along the pathway with the iron railings, from where you can see and appreciate the highland cattle, you are heading now in the direction of the aptly named cowpoo corner.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

and there is another cheery and cheering marshal, acknowledging the parkrunners as they fly by.

Looks like she didn’t get the dog memo either.  Maybe it isn’t a thing after all…

Now it’s round the corner and really steep downhill bit.  The ground was quite wet still, and honestly, I’m a bit of a scaredy cat going down such vertiginous slopes, but if you are brave or foolhardy and feel the urge, you can build up an astonishing amount of momentum going down this slope.  Just be careful though, sharp right on lap one at the bottom.  These front runners could go for it though, as lap two they’d be going straight on, and all that forward thrust would help drive them up the steep heart attack hill haul the other side.

 The marshals were working this section as a pair.  I wonder if they ever have had to heave ho anyone out of the water who didn’t either turn or brake in time?  I imagine they must have done.

The front runners rushed onwards, but we at the back, hooked right, and I briefly caught up with the walkers, who were happy in their companionable chat.  There was a cheery mood as we headed round the pond.  Pond?  Lake maybe.  Honestly, I’m not entirely sure when one becomes the other.  Round the water anyway, and past the sodden looking sheep and alpaca.

On guard at the farm entrance, a buggy assisted marshal, all smiles in high vis.

and back down the other side of the lake or pond or water feature, and you are in time to see the front runners tearing up the hill for impressive sprint finishes.

I know, shite photos.  Think of it as another opportunity to use your imagination, and thank your lucky stars I didn’t tamper with time and bring about catastrophic unimagined consequences as a result.

However, you also get to see this awesome volunteer:

On the one hundredth occasion of her volunteering.  I know, she doesn’t look old enough does she.  This proves, as if proof were needed, that volunteering keeps you young.  Bravo high-vis hero.  Glad to see you are suitable accessorized for the event too, starting the next generation of parkrunners and run directors off nice and early.  Good job.

Round the corner and up the hill towards the cafe.  It was quite a hive of activity here. There was the buzz of the finish funnel in operation, and parkrunners already home and dry were lining the finish area to cheer other participants in.  All very good natured.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Good fortune rather than good timing meant I was at this point exactly as 50% of the Tring parkrun contingency arrived there too, so a bit of mutual cheering went on before she finished her final glorious lap and I heave hoed round to do it all again.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The uphill finish is an acquired taste, and I’m not gonna lie, it is a bit hard to tear yourself away from all the post parkrun partying to do the second lap, but on the plus side, if you are a more sedate parkrunner at least you get to see it all now, because it will pretty much all have vanished by the time we’d come round again

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Ding ding, round two.

Marshals stand down as you pass through as tail walker, and a parkrunner who’d just finished came to join me for a while as was asking about whether or not this parkrun would be ok for walking at parkrun as a family member was thinking of coming but hesitant.  Of course it is!  Walking at parkrun is a thing,  It has been for years.  Although I have to be honest, I have heard some negativity expressed towards walkers, that’s not the norm, and it’s not ok, walkers welcome.  There are C25K groups, a dedicated ‘walking at parkrun’ Facebook page  and you can even put ‘walking at parkrun’ as your club name.  Some parkruns have walker meet up points, which is brilliant, and there seems to be a move to have walking groups for specific groups such as the ‘‘5k Your Way: Move Against Cancer.’ initiative

a community-based initiative to encourage those living with and beyond cancer, families, friends and those working in cancer services to walk, jog, run, cheer or volunteer at a local 5k Your Way parkrun event on the last Saturday of every month

Sheffield Hallam parkrun is one of the 5kyourway event hosts, according to their website, so that’s good.

Not all parkruns proactively do this, but all are open to walkers.  Walking and talking your way around a parkrun is one of the most therapeutic activities you can do on this planet.  FACT.*****  

So that chit chat slowed me, so I had another sprint to catch up.  Jeffing parkrun after all, huff puff.  Before I knew it, that was the second lap nearly done and dusted, and I gathered up a couple of marshals to walk back in with.  It was most jolly and companionable.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

And then we were back on that there hill.  Oh no!  Have to do a final sprint in.  Well, you don’t actually have to of course, everyone has the right to enjoy parkrun in their own way and all that, but it is a shame not to, when the finish is within your grasp and the hi-vis heroes are greeting you like you are elite athletes smashing world records as you head for the line!

I’m in, I’ve done it!  My junior parkrun marshal buddy was on hand to welcome me through and act as official photographer to document this moment of triumph too.  I thank you.  I think that the fact it took a squillion attempts to work out how to use the camera and to switch off the video feature just made the whole occasion all the more memorable.  Anyway, perfect eyesight and technical prowess are over-rated.   Who needs eyesight good enough to see the mould on the ceiling when they are lying in the bath anyway?  Precisely.

Nailed it!  Thank you timers and scanners for making it so!

There was even someone profering sweets at the finish.  Better yet, I still managed to get one of the purple wrapped one.  After I had face planted into the open tin, and was bolting down the  smooth milk chocolate with runny caramel in the middle and that all-important hazelnut at the centre almost before I’d had time to peel back the brightly-coloured wrapper and foil –  I did think to ask what was the occasion. Not that parkruns generally need any particular occasion to break out bubbles, cake and edible delights, but sometimes some flimsy premise or other will be rustled up.  Today it was the giddy collision of both a fortieth birthday and fiftieth milestone. Hooray, definitely worth celebrating.  Thank you generous fellow parkrunner, and congratulations too.

Next task was to strike the set.  The course needed to be dismantled, but you know what, it’s harder than you think to get those stakes up.  There’s a knack to how you twist and my back was not helping.  Further more, in a break with junior parkrun pack-up protocols, here they keep the tape in place on the poles.  I nearly created future mayhem by trying to take it off.  In my defence, this was less a competency issue than a training one.  I’ve not had the training module on course stand down yet, and understand that this involves a competency based checklist and a powerpoint presentation.  Shows though, using initiative can set a dangerous precedent and you shouldn’t meddle with entities you don’t understand.  Why can people never grasp this.  It’s why the B flick disaster movie is the trope that just keeps on giving.  Anyway, disaster was good naturedly averted thanks to a gentle intervention by a more experienced – and fully trained up – volunteer.  Phew.

I think that’s a British Military Bootcamp going on in the background, not a parkrun haka, but I wasn’t really concentrating so it’s hard to be sure.

Course collapsed and hi-vis surrendered, job done.  Just a matter of gathering up worldly goods – don’t forget your cymbals, or your bike, or your dog…. mutually congratulatory high fives… and then to the Rose Garden Cafe for results processing (events team) coffee quaffing (everyone else).

One very significant advantage of being among the final finishers in general, or tail walker in particular, is that on the whole by the time you reach any particular parkrun cafe, queues will have dispersed.  On this day, things were even better.  My best friends from Tring parkrun had already purchased a hot beverage just for me!  They had also somehow transformed themselves from flushed and sweaty lycra wearing parkrunners into the sort of mufty that ‘normal’ people wear.  It was almost unsettling.  Lovely sight though.  Thank you!  🙂

I did offer to pay my way, honestly I did, but gave in a bit too quickly, as I realised I could quite do with saving my pound coins for parking for Graves junior parkrun the next day.  I’ll pay another time.  Probably.  I did appreciate it though.  A lot.  See earlier reference above about howa exceedingly grateful I am for any act of kindness, and today I was overwhelmed by parkrun bounty, what with doggy hellos, chocolate and now a steaming latte. Could a parkrun get any better than this?

We sat and chatted and shared parkrun tales and parkrun love.  They are going to do an Italian parkrun soon. Oh. My. Gawd.  Definitely on my wish list.  But then pretty much all parkruns are.  The parkrun world is our oyster indeed.  Whatever that means, and not if you have a shellfish allergy, then you may want another analogy to draw upon.  Point is, any Saturday with a parkrun is a win.  Every parkrunner knows that.

Coffee drunk, my companions had to drive back to Tring, which is a real, not a made up place by the way.  So I waved goodbye to them, and immediately transferred my allegiance to my namesake who was sat amidst her celebrating friends, armed with a glass of something bubbly and surrounded by gargantuan quantities of cakes, piled high.  You could hardly see her.  I mean she is fairly petite I know but even so!

I had to ask what the sign language is for ‘congratulations’ and it’s very jolly but hard to communicate in words.  I duly congratulated her on her 25 volunteering and pacing triumph, and then one of her party signed rather dryly ‘don’t congratulate her, she’s rubbish really‘ which sounds mean but was actually in context hilarious – but what made it especially brilliant is that even though I can’t sign, the meaning was self-evident.  It’s an expressive and rich way to communicate, nuanced and funny, it must be brilliant to be bilingual with BSL, it is innately expressive it seems.  Anyway, good job parkrun tourists, excellent rallying round our parkrunner of the moment and fine celebrating too.

It was time to disperse – just a quick check with the event team and my query about the photos that exploded my brain as I realised I was peering into the jumbled anomaly that represented the fragile boundary between fact and fiction and alternative truths.  Faced with the reality of this responsibility, I could do little other than stagger away reeling.  I can never unhear those words, or shrug off my responsibilities for being a guardian of the truth and a chronicler of history.  So be it.  It’s taken well over a century to understand this, but understand it I do.

That’s why all these photos get included whether flattering or not, it’s what the event team would want.  It’s unethical to try to edit history remember.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

You’re welcome.

but for my friend there was to be no immediate escape.  My camera has certain desirable attributes, being tough for one, but it can’t really cope with taking photos indoors, so I insisted on an outdoor photoshoot, and some nice posing, because shame not to.  I admit, the power goes to my head, but you’ve got to admit, it’s more memorable to have photos like these than the rigidly posed ones yes?  Or is that just me then.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Oh.  Ok.  Probably good to know.

And that was parkrun concluded.  It might seem sad, but you have to remember it can all happen again tomorrow at junior parkrun and next week parkrun day will come round again on Saturday. What’s more, next Saturday is International parkun Day, 15th birthday of Bushy parkrun, so bring. it. on!  Imagine that, a world without parkrun?  I shudder at the very thought, and I have no idea what I used to do on a weekend, it’s just a void of tumble weed moving through a vacuum – if that’s possible, which I’m not entirely sure it is…

Thank you lovely parkrunners all, from wherever you hail.  And special thank you to the Graves parkrun team for delivering week in week out, you are a mighty force for good indeed.

Very tempted to get one of these to mark the occasion – 15 birthday limited edition barcode.  Rude not to, given all parkrun has done for me.

So remember dear reader, however sad the world may make you feel sometimes, you are never more than a few sleeps away from a parkrun.  And parkrun will remind you of all that is good in the world, and all will be well.

If you want to prolong your parkrun fix, you can read all my parkrun related posts here.  Or not.  It’s up to you.  You’ll need to scroll down for older entries though.  And this isn’t necessarily a recommendation, just a statement of fact.  Other blogs are available.

Before you go though, a final important message as we head into October.  Please don’t squish spiders.   Some are (almost) vegetarian too.  Who knew?  Bagheera kiplingi to be specific.  Amazing.  Also, rather cute.  See a spider, see a friend.  That’s why we are all wearing spider brooches now…

You’re welcome.

🙂

Have a nice day, step out and be the change you wish to see in the world if you can, but at the very least, be careful how and where you go about flapping your wings.

*though you could have a stab at an educated guess and say never-in-a-million-years, unless the person photographed becomes either infamous or famous in some way, which would be fab.  Maybe I should put a (c) sign on it just in case.  Hope over experience is clearly the way forward.

**probably not to be fair, but who reads this far down the footnotes to seek clarification on a controversial point?  That’s right, no-one.

***no.  Although the world is definitely not flat, so there may be exceptions.

****not really though.

*****Lucy fact, by which I mean I choose to believe this to be true.

 

Yomping York parkrun in the company of (nearly) a world record holder. All coming up roses, well one anyway. Result.

Digested read: parkrun tourism took me to York parkrun, that’s York, UK not York USA.  Made new besties and wanna be record breaker for three dimensional plant.  I know!  parkrun is indeed the phenomenon that just keeps on giving!

Undigested read:

Careful now, this could be a long one, might at least want to have a pee first, if not actually settle down with a cuppa.  That observation is advisory only though, you need to use your own skill and judgement to carry out your own health and safety risk assessment.  I’m sure you’re up to it.  Just believe in yourself, and all will be well with the world.

So, as every parkrunner knows, parkrun tourism starts with wondering where to head next.  I’m conscious the nights are drawing in, and my enthusiasm for early morning jaunts to far away parkrun destinations may wane as the season ends. Even so, late summer sunshine was forecast, and I’m vaguely working on my alphabet challenge, I mean it is actually impossible on account of there not being an x anywhere in the world – I mean cross flats and Exeter and similar are all well and good, and marvelous as creative solutions go, but they are not the same.  Then there’s the little matter of the Zeds all being in Poland or Russia or wherever which would be fab, but not going to happen any time soon.  There is a Zeds wholefood shop just down the road from me in fact, they are very nice there, but the shop is fairly cluttered, and I don’t know that they’d welcome having a parkrun within, which is a huge shame as that would be very handy, plus I could get my coconut yoghurt and decent bread afterwards. Oh well.  I’ve not got that many letters to go on this particular running challenge, but as I’ve already picked off all the low-hanging fruit so to speak, those I have still to get are increasingly elusive.  I’m holding out for an E and a J coming my way soon if the new parkrun rumour mill is anything to go by,  Queen Elizabeth is going to be an overnighter somewhere, as is the U, so that’s really leaves just the Y not accounted for.  York then, not even that far from Sheffield, I’m not sure quite why I’ve not been there before.  I’ll go there then.

First some research.

Ooh, well, I very much like their York parkrun Facebook page profile image – very classy and always a boon.

Let’s just make sure it’s the correct York. There is a York in Pennsylvania which may or may not be quite delightful, but does not have it’s own parkrun – well not yet anyway.  These details matter, did you hear about the woman who entered the ‘wrong’ Worcester Half Marathon?  It was on the BBC website so it must be true.

Sheila Pereira booked a place at the Worcester City Half Marathon, thinking it was in her hometown of Worcester, Massachusetts.

But the event was 3,200 miles away in the English city of the same name.

Undeterred, Ms Pereira ran 13.1 miles on her own in the US on the same day as the Worcestershire event.

She has been praised by UK organisers, who are sending her a race finisher’s pack including a participation medal and T-shirt

Here she is after her run, all smiles, post run endorphins and  fresh faced, athletic loveliness:

Why don’t I look like that after a run?  I am more inclined to rock the leaden, lumpy, purple-faced sweaty, ‘dragged through a hedge backwards’ look.  In fact I may well have cornered the market for it.  I’d settle for looking like that before a run to be fair.  Sadly, I think that aspiration is also destined to remain unfulfilled.  Sigh.  Maybe I just need to get myself a nice running visor, and it will transform me?  Probably not though.

That’s lovely – the organisers giving her a medal and all, but I don’t think it would work in quite the same way for a parkrun.  Not sure they’d add you to the results even if you had your barcode and a Strava record.  Mind you, I’ve not tried, and to be honest, if there was even a fleeting chance they might, I’d consider travelling the other side of the world to do that if it also meant I might be able to secure my outstanding parkrun bingo number at the same time. Well you’d have more control over variables would you not?  I’m on 223 runs now, and have had .20 outstanding for months and months now.  The frustration!  Mind you, I read a post somewhere that said 300 is around the norm. Seriously?  Ever wish you’d never embarked on something… although weirdly, one of the things I like about this challenge is that it’s so arbitrary, it’s just a waiting game, there is no advantage in being able to get yourself to some exotic location or other in order to bagsy it.  Level playing field and all that.  I’m not alone with my running challenges bingo despair though it seems.  Just seen a thread somewhere on the same theme.  Mighty parkrunners have been driven mad by less!  This is bad though – no idea where the original post comes from, but I’m sure it’s true:

Anyway, you are distracting me with all these questions about running challenges, back to the decision in hand.   I would go to York parkrun in England, I would bagsy my ‘Y’ and probably not my solitary last outstanding bingo number (which is 20 by the way).  It would be fine.

Let’s check out the course info from their official website, erm, the York parkrun website blah de blah describes the course thus:

Course Description

1.5 laps (approximately) of the tarmac service road around the inside of the racecourse. Very flat, with few turns, making it a very fast course. On course map, start at green pin and head anti-clockwise round service road. Complete 1 full lap, then continue on round approximately another 1/2 lap to red Finish pin

and it looks like this: 

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Cool.  What else.  Whoooooooooooooa!  Wait, what cruel trick is this.  ALERT DEAR READER, ALERT!

Facilities
Please note that there are no toilets or changing facilities at York parkrun.

What!?  What about my compulsory pre parkrun precautionary pee?  How is this going to work, particularly after a long drive.  Uh oh?  This critical detail I remembered, is why I haven’t made it to York parkrun before.

I decided there must be something, there is a holiday inn near the start and I’d pass a garage en route.  As the only other alternative is Yeovil in Somerset, which is so far away it might as well be on the moon, I’d have to improvise if necessary.  You are supposed to do something that scares you every day anyway aren’t you?  The thought of no loos pre parkrun does terrify me, but hey ho, I’ll embrace the challenge.  Helps us to grow if we move out of our comfort zone.  Where there’s a will there’s a way as the saying goes.

I’d do this dear reader, even if I had to wet my knickers to claim my Y!  It’d be OK, but just in case ‘having a will’ wasn’t enough to find a way, then plan b ensured that as I wasn’t using public transport and I’d have a plastic bag to sit on in my car for the journey home if required, I’d got this covered!  I may not have quite the ferocious tenacity of Lisa Nowak, but working towards it eh? 

So that was decision made.  Time to get excited about the prospect of a new destination.  To add to my frenzy of anticipatory excitement, I also was the recipient of a much coveted apricot tee.  It arrived on the Friday afternoon, all personalised with my home run and everything.  I’ve wanted one for ages, but am on a budget so couldn’t really justify it, but then I decided I wanted something special to wear to grace the 15th birthday celebrations at Bushy parkrun in a couple of weeks time.  What could be more perfect.  It feels lovely to wear, though the fabric is erm, flimsy and a bit, shall we say ‘unforgiving’ any  seam of clothing, any wobbly or undulating flesh, any erect – or even positively subdued – nipple will be highlighted once this garment is donned.  Oh well.  It’s a cheery hue, and makes me feel part of the club.  So yay!  When I finally rediscover my running mojo and sculpt my body into newly muscled contours I’ll be glad of the fabric I’m sure.  Shame that by that time the world will be awash with water due to the ice caps melting and so a) no one will care about what I look like in my official parkrun tee, and b) that extra body fat would have been a real boon to enable me to stay afloat.  It just goes to show one should always be most careful about what one wishes for.

That was Friday then, yesterday in fact, and then today’s the day!  A quick check of the York parkrun Facebook page to make sure that no unexploded ordnance would stop play as at Hogmoor Inclosure parkrun for example.  Not only is that a very dramatic cause for cancellation, it does sound like a made up place too, Hogmoor Inclosure parkrun, hmmm.  Now it’s accelerating to the top of my parkrun to do list.  Hippest parkrun in the UK I imagine (work it out).  No ordnance, all good, off I go.

There was bright late summer sun trying to break through as I headed off through the streets of Sheffield.

Truly a gift of a day, one that rewards you for early rising, I was quite perky as I set off, then as I went through Sheffield centre, I remembered it was also arrival day for students, hmm, coming back would be interesting.  Oh well, I’d worry about that later.  It was a surprisingly straightforward drive to York, though the morning mist took on fog like density at times, I had my fog lights on as well as my headlights.  I stopped off for petrol and pee (I didn’t ingest the petrol, it was for the car) at a service station just on the outskirts of York, and followed the postcode that took me past the Holiday Inn York racecourse, and to Cherry Lane (YO24 1QF) where there is mention of a small carpark near to the start.  It was a battle of nerves the last bit, you go into seemingly a residential area, and I wasn’t following signs to the racecourse either – perhaps if you do, you end up parking on the Knavesmire Road where I think there is more space, and potentially – by negotiation – loos too.

For your information, hold your nerve.  I thought I’d gone wrong when I saw the drive down to Cherry Lane  car park, it was so narrow, it looked like it might just be pedestrian access and lead to a dead end.  I threw caution to the wind and hesitatingly crawled down there – not literally, but figuratively, I mean I drove down extra slowly.  You emerge from the dense tree lined path to the open expanse of York racecourse bathed in bright early morning sunshine. It looked spectacular, and vast.  There was parking, not much but I was early as always, so parked fine.  I was also sufficiently early I went to retrace my steps to take a pic of the entrance to Cherry Lane so you won’t be scared away, and also inspected the Holiday Inn.  It has to be the nearest accommodation to a parkrun start line ever!  I’m surprised it wasn’t heaving with parkrun tourists, maybe it was.  They had loos on the ground floor, but obviously it would not be appropriate for me to encourage anyone to use them without making a purchase.  Yeah, obviously not.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

So there I was.  Parked up and all ready to go.  The sun was coming out, and burning away the mist.  People seemed to be mustering just a few metres away from where I’d parked.  Back lit by the sunshine.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I couldn’t see any obvious parkrun hi-vis heroes, but there were obvious parkrunners, and a mighty pilgrimage of people moving in a stream from the grandstand area of the race course.  This was going to be a busy one. They really did look like wildebeest on migration, resolutely moving in a seemingly unbroken ribbon across the landscape, only with fewer being picked off by hungry crocodiles en route – well, as far as I could tell anyway.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Perhaps a few were lost, but not so many as would make all that much difference to the numbers.  parkrun would go on without them, it’s what they would have wanted I’m sure.  I’d want parkrun to continue without me if I fell en route.  There is at least one parkrun where it went ahead despite one of the volunteers being locked in the loo throughout.  I know this, I referenced it in one of my blog posts, can I find it now though?  Rhetorical question, no I can’t.  Let me know if you unearth it somehow.  Did happen though.  These things do, no point in ruining everyone’s parkrunday.    Maybe not being eaten by crocodiles en route, but sort of similar-ish barriers to participation can crop up unbidden.  I think Cairns parkrun routinely warns runners about crocodiles, but that could be a wind up for tourists – you aren’t going to risk ignoring it though are you?  They also have a Holiday Inn on their course route, so York and Cairns parkrun courses are therefore pretty much indistinguishable.  Did you know two Londoner’s a day call 999 because they are locked in a loo.  Strange but (possibly) true.

*EDIT*  good news dear reader, I’ve remembered.  It was Maureen, she got locked in the loo (by accident) at Whangarei parkrun, but was liberated by an international rescue team afterwards, so all’s well that end’s well eh!  Here they are trying to rescue her, takes a lot of parkrunners apparently…

One run had a lion on their course.  A stuffed one admittedly (poor thing, but at least it’s usually used for educational pointers not stuck on some trophy hunter’s wall), but no-one told the runners that.  Hilarious!  Good on you iMfolzi Trail Run race organisers, what larks eh, what larks?  Not a parkrun though, sadly… bet there were a load of pbs anyway though!

There were a fair few tourists, you could tell, by the large number of us posing next to suitable landmarks for photos.  This was good though, as it meant I quickly identified my new BFFs for the morning, it’s grand to identify parkrun besties early on.  This was a fabulous fivesome from the brilliantly named Sole Mates (see what they’ve done there), they vacated a placard for me to photograph, after first querying if I’d like a shot of them there too.  Which set up a companionable photo fest for the run round later when we found we were at a similar pace.  They were a hoot actually (cheery wave if you are reading) and I always love seeing proper running club buddies enjoying each others company as much as the run out.  They also took a pic of me, looking pleased in my apricot tee and directionally pointing at the sign so you can tell where I am.    You can see others doing the same from the opposite side.  It’s a well photographed landmark it seems.  You know you’ll do the same if you make it there, has to be done… Some things we do at parkrun are almost reflex actions, instinctive.

More milling and chilling…

and then after a bit, someone in a hi-vis appeared and identified themselves as the first timer briefing person.  A little gaggle of us gathered around her for the briefing.

Key points was that there are some loos, but you have to ask to access them and they are over the grandstand side.  The course is one and a half laps basically, and can get congested at the start so stand clear unless you are going for a time.  Also, and I’ve not seen this before at a parkrun, they had some pacers who were specifically run/walk, one three minute run, one minute walk and one alternating walk one minute, run one minute, plus the compulsory tail walker too.  It seemed to be very genuinely welcoming of couch to 5k people, run/walkers everyone really.  The first timers’ briefing was still finishing off when the official RD briefing started, so we jogged down to join in that.  I noticed some high vis wearers had those flexi/ trug buckets  you use for gardening and mucking out stables, that kind of things – well I do anyway.  I think it was to gather together runners’ belongings so they could be carted from the start to the finish area by a willing volunteer, as they are at opposite sides of the racecourse.  I was actually warm enough to leave my fleece in the car, which is pretty much unprecedented, but it was heating up nicely.  Good to know for future reference.

Missed most of the RD briefing, but it seemed brief and to the point.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

and then it was awf!  Quite a fierce start, I just waited and watched until enough runners had piled past I felt safe to enter the back of the throng.  The path is wide, but there were a lot of participants, so it was congested at the front, the advice to hang back unless you were serious about going for a fast time was spot on.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Quite a stampede!  It was a lovely sight ahead though, the ribbon of colour stretching round the rails of the racecourse and into the sun.

It is a picturesque course, but as it’s all sort of laid out in front of you from the outset, there isn’t all that much to say about it.  There are landmarks along the way, the grandstand, the starters pens, poor gee gees, and an inordinate amount of seagulls, which was a bit surreal but made complete sense of the York parkrun Facebook profile pic, it really does say everything you need to know about the parkrun.  In fact, you could save yourself the bother of reading on and just have a good old stare at that pic instead, captures it all perfectly.  Then again, you’ve sort of committed now if you’ve got to this point, the running equivalent of being in blood stepped so far – maybe in bog stepped so deep on a trail run would be the nearest equivalent.  You’re here now, shame to bail now when you’ve already invested so much.

I just joined the throng and loped on round.  It’s a tarmac track, with grass to the side, but sufficiently busy that I found myself running on the grass for a fair old way before it thinned out enough for me to slot into the runners on the path again.  After a bit you turn round and are running towards the grandstand. It was quite exciting being at a racecourse, even though I’m not a fan of racing per se, it was just such an unusual and striking venue.  If you had a decent camera you’d get some amazing pics.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

There was a cute dog jogging along

As I was running round, I suddenly spotted something weird ahead of me on the track.  No not a lion, but was that maybe a leek?  A fancy dress vegetable of some description away on the horizon for sure.   I wanted to put on enough of a sprint to catch that up and check that out.   And oh look, seagulls!  When not flapping about overhead, they line up and watch.  Loads of them, no idea why quite so many or why they are hanging out here, but it’s clearly a desirable location.

Plus there were my new best friends coming into view.  Well, I was seeking to take some pictures anyway, might as well have my new besties in the frame – if you look carefully, you will see they are even acknowledging me in public with a cheery wave so clearly our friendship is reciprocated!  Good to know.  Is that a leek though?  Hmmm.

After you pass the grandstand area and the starting pens and the York racecourse posh stand entrance you turn the corner past a temporary tented encampment and there is the finish all set up with an abundance of hi-vis heroes in situ to channel everyone in.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Belatedly, I noticed there seemed to be some permanent km markers on the route.  They appeared to align to parkrun, though as I didn’t spot all of them I can’t be 100% sure, but I can’t imagine what else they’d be… except that somewhat cryptically, I noticed on the York parkrun Facebook page that there seem to be a number of variant courses – as many as four I think, so it does vary, I don’t know on what basis, you’ll have to rock up yourself and find out.

Round again, back to where you started from.  It had thinned out quite a bit by now.  This parkrun is either ‘relaxed’ or anarchic depending on how you feel about parkrun rules.  I was very much at the back of the pack and the route isn’t really marshalled other than at the finish funnel, otherwise there are pacers and cones to stop you deviating from the fairly obvious route round.  However, I noticed leads came off dogs, and short leads were lengthened on others and at least one child on a bicycle.  It wasn’t so much that this caused any issues for me or other participants, but I did inwardly raise an eyebrow.  Particularly as just when we got back to the start area an older gentleman walking his dog was knocked to the ground by a parkrunners dog.  It was quite a tumble and I saw the aftermath rather than what happened.  The runner concerned stopped and was massively apologetic, though the man that had fallen insisted he was OK and it was his dog coming over that had caused the boisterous doggy greetings that had sent him flying.  It seems basically one or other jumped up and he got knocked over as a result.   I stopped too to see if help was needed, but he said he was OK and didn’t need any. It made me feel very uncomfortable running on.  I mean it was indeed just an accident, but falling over as an adult is no fun at all, and he wasn’t exactly  in his first flush of youth,  he’ll be stiff as anything tomorrow if not worse. It made me a bit nervous about other dogs not on leads and the lack of any marshals in sight.  I admit I’m getting increasingly wary of dogs these days, I don’t care if ‘they are just being friendly’ they do damage if they knock you down.  Still, it seemed a good natured mutually apologetic resolution, thankfully.  Could have been very much worse.  But it wasn’t, so back to happy thoughts and flowers and sunny days and sharing the parkrun love. I’d lost sight of the leek though, that was a shame.

All round again…

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

and then finally, back to the finish, and the virtual embrace of the timers and the scanners and all that finish funnel jazz.  Thank you marshals.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I stopped my watch and it looked like I’d finished with a .21 bingo time, a tantalising one second off my single outstanding bingo number.  I’d have to wait for the results, but it was within touching distance.

As if that wasn’t exciting enough, I then saw my leek man up ahead, striding off into the distance clutching his veg (not a euphemism).  Aaargh, I sprinted harder than I had all morning to go find them.  I wanted to see what that was all about and thought they might want my few pics forwarding onto them too.  After all, we all love a running photo, however poorly framed…

Caught them!

Turns out, it isn’t a leek, it’s quite obviously a white rose.   Silly me, a leek looks like this, entirely different.  I can’t help wondering if it was disadvantaged by being a leek in an onion class, therefore robbed of first place.

They filled me in on their project which is fund raising for York against cancer as fastest marathon as a three dimensional plant.  And why not?  What could possibly go wrong?  Exactly.  You can chip in here to Steve Gaughan’s just giving page if you are a white rose fan, and get excited about Guiness World Records, and why wouldn’t you.

Of course I took some more pictures:

Totally epic.  You’d have thought things couldn’t get any better, but dear reader they did!  Because along came my new besties and there followed lots of group shot taking in all possible configurations of leek white rose and new best friends and me and anyone else in the vicinity. You can have a lot of fun doing this apparently.  Running in this costume requires a guide and an ability to withstand significant dehydration, it had to be super hot in there, and probably quite stinky over time too, like the wombles costumes, they got ever ranker over the years so the story goes, not sure any of them ever ran a marathon though.  Jimmy Saville used to hide in them to ogle young girls apparently, and he ran marathons, I don’t know if that counts but it creeps me out and puts me off the wombles quite a bit which is sad in a way… Is nothing sacred?

Never mind, back to kittens and flowers, or parkrunners and a collective appreciation of a perfect white rose at least.  It involved a fair few of us, documenting this auspicious occasion.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Just think, that means I may have been in the presence of a nearly world record holder.  Proud moment, proud day!  Sigh, I’m quite giddy at the very thought.  Meeting them AND a quintet of new besties all at the same parkrun, that’s quite a morning’s haul.  Go me!  Slow and steady naturally, but going all the same!

I know his official photo in the york press article is marginally better than mine by the way, but you have to concede mine has more atmosphere do you not?  (Rhetorical question).  I think capturing my silhouette pirouetting in the foreground was a stroke of compositional genius, and I don’t care who says that proves only that I’m guilty of either delusional thinking or cognitive dissonance.

So we tore apart from one another and waved each other on our respective ways.  Bye bye lovely parkrun people, I hope our paths cross again on the parkrun tourist circuit, I’m sure they will.

I really hope he walked all the way home in that…

There is supposed to be a coffee van somewhere, but I presume it must have been the opposite side to where I was parked and honestly I couldn’t be bothered to go and look, although a cup of coffee would have been great.  Instead I wandered back to say goodbye and thanks to the volunteers and soak up the venue one last time.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I did seek out the RD to mention about the dog incident.  I wasn’t sure if it was the right thing to do or if I was just interfering, but then I figured if I was RD I’d want to know, and it was a bad fall.  Older people do break things and accidental or otherwise best that such incidents are recorded surely.

I left the volunteers packing up in the autumn sunshine. Thank you hi-vis heroes!

That was that, parkrun done and dusted for another week. Oh, apart from junior parkrun tomorrow of course, but you know what I mean.  Bye bye parkrun, bye bye York racecourse.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Oh, and my time came in.  Ending in an .18 seconds.  I was pleased in a way it was two seconds out, just one second would have finished me off.  Also, it just shows how you have to surrender to fate with this one, the chances of getting your watch exactly synched with the time keepers and avoiding the hiccups of funnel duckers or whatever are pretty minuscule.  Maybe I should start to change my mindset, and see if I can be the slowest ever to attain that elusive running bingo challenge!  Now there’s a thought.

For now that’s all though, thank you lovely York parkrun people for putting a fab show on the road, and especially thanks for being my new best friends Sole Mates of Matlock, you are epic. Fine parkrun York, coming up roses indeed, or at the very least one fine white Yorkshire rose, I do hope that’s to be a permanent fixture… speaking of which, good luck Yorkshire Rose, I’ll be on tenterhooks awaiting the outcome of your record attempt.  Exciting times!  I say I’ll be on tenterhooks, but actually I believe in you, it will happen, you’ve got this!

If you want to prolong your parkrun fix, you can read all my parkrun related posts here.  Or not.  It’s up to you.  You’ll need to scroll down for older entries though.

Same time next week then?  A venue of your choice for parkrunday.

Good oh.

🙂

The bear truth about Congregating at Congleton parkrun

Digested read: parkrun tourism took me to Congleton parkrun.

Undigested read:

This could be another long one, so maybe have a precautionary pee first, before you settle down with a mug of tea or gin or whatever.  Not that I’m advocating having a mug of neat gin, that would be very ill-advisable, you should at least be supplementing that with some nibbles or consider adding in a mixer.  Though, for the record, I’m not medically qualified (astonishing revelation I know) so use your own judgement, but for what it’s worth, I’d go for a mug of Yorkshire tea myself, with unsweetened soya milk, no other beverage will quite hit the spot.  Each to there own though, I’ll never know.  Even if you don’t want to read any further, there’s always time for a sit down and a nice cup of tea.  Mrs Doyle was right on that score for sure.

and if you are procrastinating anyway, well, reading a blog might make a change from the usual four horseman of procrastination don’t you think?  It’s not social media per se, it’s parkrun research, that’s practically keep fit, which comes under the category of self-improvement.

Where was I, oh yes, Congleton.  It’s still just about parkrun tourist season, the mornings are not yet too dark nor the weather too inclement to want to venture out in the car on an early Saturday morning. I was still in search of a final sea/c to complete my pirates running challenge.  Shallow but true, and a vague browse of the various parkrun location resources revealed Congleton as being in striking distance of Sheffield, about 45 miles away or so.  Hmm, didn’t know anything about Congleton.  More research revealed it to be in Cheshire.  Oh Ok then.

Because the interweb never lies, and is the font of all knowledge, my next stop was the official Congleton parkrun website course description, where the blah de blah reads as follows:

Course Description
Congleton is a pretty course consisting of 3 anticlockwise laps around the mere plus 100m to finish. It is flat, on hardcore and tarmac and should be suitable for fast times. There is a small section on an access road in front of the Watersports centre but there is a pedestrian route painted on the road. A marshal will be available here.

and it looks like this:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

which is obviously a cross section of an eel.  No doubt the course will also be electrifying, though whether it will reach the wattage of the newly discovered electric eel recently found in the Amazon.  As I’m sure you know, and will readily recall at the first possible pub quiz opportunity, the Electrophorus voltai can deliver a jolt of 860 volts, much more than the existing record of 650 volts.  I dare say that the Congleton  course will similarly light up its parkrunners with the joy of parkrun.  Still, no harm in going to check that out for myself.

On the subject of pub quizzes, yes we were, did you know the electric eel is actually a type of fish and not a type of eel?  I know, remarkable, who knew? I’m allergic to fish actually, which is a shame on account of my being a Pisces, but I’m not allergic to parkrun so I expect it will be fine.  Anyway, in truth, it’s more likely to be a cross section of a conger eel at Congleton, that would make more sense.  Can’t wait to join everyone doing the conger conga on Saturday, bet it’s Congleton’s unique selling point, missed opportunity otherwise….  On reflection, I was somewhat surprised they don’t make more of this point on their website, or on the about us section of their Congleton parkrun Facebook page. Still, nowt as queer as folk, I’d best go check it out for myself.  Bit of parkrun themed ethnographic research to kickstart the weekend is always a good call.  Hurrah, decision made.

So my alarm went off at stupid o-clock on Saturday morning, it was still dark and I did wonder if it really was such a good idea to be venturing out early on a Saturday morning. Oh well, I was up now, and it was my plan, and I’ve always been conscientious if not keen, and I’d said I’d go, even if only to myself, so go I would.

By the time I stepped out of the house the day was dawning in gorgeous gloriousness!  I love this time of year and this time of day.  Mornings are awesome, pink sky, promise of autumnal sunshine, this was going to be epic. Off I went, and the drive was fantastic.  Heading off towards Bakewell, there was quite a thick mist which gave a surreal other worldly look to the drive.  Then as I ascended over moors in the general direction of Buxton the views were just stunning.  Bright sunshine illuminating huge expanses of moor and hills. Although the purple heather has died back to brown now, it looked like copper under the early morning sunlight, it was the sort of view that lifts your heart and makes you happy to have ventured out.  It was like going on an impromptu holiday. I didn’t get any decent shots because the roads were windy and there were a lot of warning signs that you could die because of a collision at any moment – well words along those lines, I’m not entirely surprised, although there was no traffic, the views were distracting and if you lost concentration you could ricochet off a bend with most unpleasant consequences.  Unless you were will be Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, she’d be fine,  what with her wing and boat conversion options – but I’m going to stick my neck out and take a punt that you probably won’t be, so drive with care.  I did stop and take a couple of snaps, but they make me feel inadequate as they don’t really capture the scene at all, however, I showed willing, and I took the blooming pictures so here they are, don’t judge, just go check it out for yourself sometime, think of this as but a teaser, like a peep through the key hole to whet your appetite for the feast for your eyes that awaits you if you make the trip in your own right.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

Not a route to be doing in winter though, you are high up, and those roads are twisty and steep at times.

I’d got confused (doesn’t take much) about where to park on arrival. There was mention of both the Nobanno Lakeside Indian Restaurant for parking and that car parking would be available at the Visitor Centre on Sandy Lane.  In the end, I saw signs to the visitor centre first, and went there.  Because I am always ridiculously early (about 8.30) there was lots of parking at that time, and you are incredibly near the start, so it was fine.  However, it did fill up, so I guess it depends when you’ll get there.  I’d arrived.  Hurrah!  Always a relief.  What’s more, there was a ‘caution runners’ sign already in situ, so I knew I was in the right place AND toilets which were even open!  Phew, on all counts.  It was just 50p for 4 hours parking, which is an absolute bargain and enough time for even me to complete my parkrun.  There was also a coffee place, and a map of the mere and, allsorts really.  Quite a hub, with far superior facilities than I’d expected from the website, which is grand if you are touristing.

Paid up and peed out I went for an explore.

The parkrun location is a bit of a surprise, because after all the moorland I’d been prepared for a more exposed and wild site. In fact it is indeed a very pretty location.  But, what they didn’t mention is….

can’t believe they didn’t…

the usp of this parkrun – well surely unique I’ve not seen the like before, even though Sherwood Pines parkrun has a Gruffalo, that’s not the same at all, and anyway it’s only in the general vicinity, it isn’t supervising the whole parkrun operation from above –

is that the Congleton parkrun is overseen by its very own bear!

YES!  A bear!  How fantastic is that.  Taking an overview of proceedings thus!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

They must be so habituated to their bear that they no longer even notice it.  I mean, quite frankly I’m beside myself with excitement if I just get a robin in my garden, and when I got little froglets emerging anyone that made eye contact with me in the street was dragged round to my back garden to appreciate them.  If I had an actual bear, well, I think I’d implode.  Still, Congleton parkrunners are apparently pretty laid back about the whole thing.  I wasn’t though, I think this is a major asset to the parkrun.  The bear is Sandy Bear apparently, making this parkrun a mandatory destination for any parkrunners called Sandy (or Sandi, just saying, you know who you are).  Also, the bear is the symbol of Congleton, and this one keeps watch over the mere at Astbury from his elevated perch, like a lifeguard.  That’s what is says on the interweb so it must be true.  I’m not sure you should rely on Sandy to rescue you if you fell in though, looked to me like the bear was more supervisory than hands on.  Super cool though. An actual bear!

I could bearly believe it.

So, once I’d got over that excitement, I checked out the view. Which was lovely.  Water sparkling under the morning light, and Congleton parkrun marshals congregating to get the event under way.

There was a sign for the first timers’ new runners briefing, and an enthusiastic and early to post marshal on hand, proactively asking people if they were new as they came within ear shot.  I was new!  I therefore responded to the affirmative, and got a personalised welcome, and course description.  Three times round basically.  A polite enquiry about whether or not I’d survived the crossing from Sheffield without getting a nose bleed – a valid point, it was pretty high up there, very close to Flash which I believe has recently been revalidated as the highest village in the UK – although this claim is not without controversy.  He was extremely welcoming, and up for a one to one intro, even though there’d be plenty of other first timers’ coming in my wake I was sure.  I also learned there was an injured badger nearby, but the RSPCA were on their way to rescue it, so I hope that ended ok, poor thing, as if badgers haven’t got enough to cope with what with being pointlessly  and painfully culled all over as well.  I got a picture of me and the nice first timer briefing marshal.  Here it is, and here is him on his own, holding the sign with panache and welcoming smile.  It is the hi-vis way.

I left him drumming up further takers, as other runners were starting to emerge from the various hedgerows and surrounding paths.  The core team were loitering with intent by the freshly erected finish funnel, and Sandy Bear was surveying the scene with quiet authority as is no doubt the Sandy Bear way.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I meanwhile went back the short distance to the car park to dump stuff. By this time the car park was pretty busy.  They had some car park marshals on hand to direct traffic into extra little corners of the car park to squeeze in – safely – as many vehicles as possible.  I would like to take this opportunity to give a special shout out to the hi-vis hero who was literally, not just figuratively, sprinting about waving cars into position.  It was very impressive, and totally worthy of a special volunteering running challenges badge for being a car park marshal.  I declare a vested interest in this, as the following day, I too got this iconic purple badge for being car park marshal at Graves junior parkrun – I’ve done the role a few times before, but not been uniquely credited for it previously.  I’m not sure if this is a new badge, or just we’ve changed how we name the various marshals on the volunteer rota.  Whatever, it’s a beauty, and I have to concede this car park marshal in particular was grafting in the role.

Car Park Marshal – Keep everyone safe and organised in the car park

Here he is, and there’s a pic of his companion hi-vis hero, who no doubt was equally proactive, but in this shot is demonstrating in between doing essential directional pointing as opposed to actually sprinting around.  Directional pointing is very important too, one of those roles that is perhaps undervalued until it is done incorrectly!  Thank you both!

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

For the record, I didn’t run around when I was car park marshal, but I did give out a great many high-fives.  Every car park marshal role has its own unique vibe and context specific responsibilities.

So after observing the car park synchronised vehicle dancing, it was back to the start, through the little gateway and passing under Sandy Bear.  You don’t have to wave every time you pass Sandy, but I personally think it’s only polite to do so.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

I followed the migrating runners to the start funnel area.  There were more runners than I expected, and the start is a bit narrow.  People squashed into the funnel with good natured banter and outstanding spatial awareness.

Some waited til the last minute, warming up for their parkhop challenge.  Remember people, you have to respect everyone’s right to participate in their own way.  parkrun code and all that.

The start funnel got increasingly intimate, and I wasn’t sure quite where to put myself.  I didn’t want to be too far forwards and be an obstruction to other runners, so in the end I slotted in almost at the very back, and outside the formal start funnel structure.  A few late comers were sprinting up, and excited anticipation continued to bill as the RD and team came down for the briefing.  New Runners marshal was waving his sign to try to attract the attention of anyone who might have missed him.  I approve of this actually.  It is daunting turning up at new venues and if you are a completely new runner to parkrun, nothing is obvious and everything can seem intimidating.  This proactive welcoming and identifying of newbies was great.  I mean, you weren’t actually stalked.  If you wanted to blend in unobtrusively you could without being hunted down and outed, leading to you being surrounded by an enthusiastic but alarming crowd of parkrunners encircling you shouting crazed good wishes in a cult like altered state – but no-one could have rocked up and taken part without knowing there was someone on hand who would willingly welcome then and answer any questions and calm any nerves.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

The RD briefing was completely impossible to hear.  Everyone around me was chatting loudly, and completely ignoring it, which made me inwardly squirm but not do anything.  I’m always staggered by how rude some parkrunners can be at this point.  Talking through the run briefing isn’t by any means unique to Congleton, but it was so frustrating.  I hadn’t heard any of it before even if they had, and I also think just a base line of respect to the poor RD who’s given up their morning to facilitate the run, keeping quiet for 5 mins isn’t really a lot to ask is it.  Anyway, I joined in the clapping at what seemed like appropriate points, and tried to remember to feel the parkrun love for my fellow parkrunners even if they were apparently incapable of of the briefest of silences.  It wasn’t even a very long briefing, extraordinarily brief, and the call to start was bang on 9.00 a.m. too.  Thank you RD, I think you and your team were awesome, I’m sure everyone did, even if they weren’t proactively demonstrating it in any very obvious way.

So, the cry went off, probably, didn’t hear it, and immediately nothing happened.  It was a sedate start.  This bothers me not one iota, because I’m not interested in times at all at the moment, just going round and taking it all in.  However, if you are a faster runner or going for a pb you’d need to position yourself further forward in the line up.  It has the potential to be a fast course as it’s flat and once the runners spread out the paths are wide enough for overtaking, but it took me a good 15 seconds to get across the start.  However, good news, they may be a noisy lot in the funnel line up, but they are good natured, and there was no shoving, it was all very sedate shuffling forward and honestly, it would have been an excellent opportunity for a nice big collective parkrun conga!  We were all squashed together and shuffling forwards anyway, a few high kicks and hip thrust would have added greatly to the occasion.  They should at least do that on their Christmas Day parkrun, if they have one, or maybe their birthday one, they must have a parkrun birthday, every parkrun does!  Or International parkrun day, that’s coming soon, what better excuse for a Congleton Conga, as if one were even needed!  As if an excuse were needed I mean, not a Conga, Congleton parkrun unquestionably needs that!

They could get even more ambitious with a bit of practice, and get an entry in for either the longest distance Conga dance like this Ipswich group, or the most people participating in a Conga line on ice like the good students of Oswego don’t know how often the mere freezes over, so that would be a challenge, but who doesn’t like a challenge eh?  The actual longest Conga, in terms of numbers of participants was  the Miami Super Conga consisting of 119,986 people gathered in Miami, Florida, USA on 13 March 1988, but I don’t think that would be practical.  They’d run out of tokens and it would be a nightmare adding those other results manually afterwards don’t you think?  I mean I know hi-vis marshals are absolute heroes, but I agree there need to be some boundaries.  Even so, that’s my constructive criticism for Congleton parkrun for what it’s worth – implement Congleton Conga parkrun protocol at the commencement of the parkrun, that would really put the fun in start funnel would it not!  (See what I’ve done there?  Genius.) Also, I’m sure it would make Sandy Bear incredibly happy, you could probably even do a ouroboros round the mere, quite something I’m sure you’d agree.  The mere was made for it!

I suppose the hokey cokey would also be fun, but less practical for achieving forward momentum.  So many options to explore, so few Saturday mornings with which to experiment…

So off we went eventually, in a good natured train of unfortunately non-congaring parkrunners.  There’s not much to say about the course, it is indeed three laps, as long as you can count to three, you should be fine.  There seemed to be a fair few slower back of the pack parkrunners which I personally find reassuring. It had a relaxed feel, although there were plenty of speedier runners sprinting off ahead, already little dots in the distance as the cohort of parkrunners I was in started to thin out.

So you keep the mere to your left, and away you go.  Although the water is ever present, it’s often obscured by trees or hedging, but the occasional glimpses across the water were lovely.  There were a few ducks, swans and even…  I think seagulls.

Fishermen aplenty (they did all seem to be men) but then again, it is a fishing lake so I suppose that’s to be expected.  And a multitude of benches, never seen so many.  Plenty of opportunities for a quick sit down if the mood seized you.

The first lap was about just getting into a rhythm really, and finding a pace, though of course I was stop starting to take photos whilst pretending to myself it was a legitimate jeffing parkrun tactic.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

After a short stretch, you emerge at the restaurant which was where it was suggested you might park.  There was some parking here, although some of it was fenced off too.  But basically, those directions work as well.  There is the potential for traffic here, but worry not!  In the absence of Sandy Bear, a friendly marshal is on hand to direct and supervise.  I know this, because I stopped to take a picture of him – I try to take a photo of every marshal I see en route at parkruns these days, because they are often overlooked when people are photographing events – but I misjudged this, as somehow another runner ran right into me.  Oops.  I’d thought I’d moved way off the path, but apparently not.  Embarrassing, ‘don’t worry’ said the marshal encouragingly.  Just one of those things.  I clearly need to work on my spatial awareness, as well as my personality, shortcomings in my social skills; risking being seen or out in public and running skills.  I’ll add it to the list.

Onwards, and round and round, glancing sideways at the views, and enjoying seeing Sandy Bear from directly opposite the water.

I’d describe the experience of this run as pretty contemplative, it wasn’t particularly chatty, not that I can talk and run anyway.  And being three laps it takes on a meditative quality.  I didn’t particularly interact with other runners, although I did catch snippets of conversation between others as they passed.  I think we should all give a particular shout out to Caroline who apparently bought ice creams for everyone.  Generous, and much appreciated.

Astonishingly, I got lapped on the first lap.  They are super speedy these front runners.  Mind you, three lappers are growing on me.  I like that you get to see the faster runners pass, and it also means you have more company on the way round, instead of running round in glorious isolation once everyone else has pulled away.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

You come back round to the mustering point, which is now in readiness for the finish.  What a fine sight and vision of loveliness this team were!  It’s always amazing to see how many people it takes to put on a parkrun.  It’s an act of faith everyone coming together week in week out to keep the parkrun show on the road.  Thank you parkrun marshals everywhere.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

And round all over again, this time for lap two.  Hope you are counting.  

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

This would probably be a good training route if you were aiming for consistent splits or the giddy heights of a progression run – a feat of which I can only dream, unless I started a a crawl.  It is a very flat and consistent surface.  I didn’t find it dull in fact, though I’d thought the novelty might wear off a bit.  How Bob Becker won his ‘race for the ages’ ultra marathon did 230 one mile laps I cannot imagine.  Oh you don’t know about this?  Well, dear reader, FYI:

The race consists of a 1-mile loop in Manchester, Tennessee, and runners only have a certain amount of time to run it—and how long depends on their age.

For example, Becker, of Fort Lauderdale, Florida, is 74. Therefore, by race rules, he will get 74 hours to run as many loops as he can, whereas someone who is 67 will have to start seven hours after Becker. This gives the old timers a chance to win outside of their age group for a change.

Even so, that’s a lot of laps, way more than three.  I can only assume he entered some sort of altered state to do so.  Mind you, great advert for jeffing, it’s all a question of scale, maybe if I can jeff a parkrun I could do 231 laps jeffed nicely, as long as I live long enough to be eligible for loads of extra time to do it in, not sure I want to live that long though, I’ve not made adequate provision for my old age as it is, even so, as a hypothetical aspirational running goal fantasy, I could do worse. Also, I’d need someone else to be keeping count, even counting to three takes a fair bit of concentration.  Respect to BB though, fab achievement.

So I kept on running(ish), and by the time I made it round to the finish funnel at the end of lap two, there were some speedier runners romping home.  I paused to try and capture the scene. Runners who’d already finished were milling and chilling, and Sandy Bear was watching on from above, it was a lovely colourful and cheery scene.  #loveparkrun

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

And round again for the final lap, which, dear reader you will already know if you’ve been concentrating, was lap three.  Always is here at Congleton, for parkrun purposes anyway.  I think it was on lap three that I did have a bit of parkrun friendship with another runner, who was being really consistent and steady, and we were sort of the same time with my stop starts keeping pace with her romping on.  Cue some companionable leapfrogging until my pauses for photo ops made keeping up anymore impossible. Thank you new parkrun best friend!  Happy parkrunning.

For the final lap, I decided to check out the multitude of benches a bit more. I’ve never previously been to a parkrun with quite so many.  It was fun reading the dedications.  There was one for ‘Rush’ which seemed apt, for runners, but the next bench along encouraged you to ‘sit a while, rest and enjoy the view’ and another to ‘don’t worry, be happy’.  All approaches are viable options at parkrun – everyone’s right to participate in their own way, very appropriate.  Every bench a store of memories, as well as a statement of commemoration and an opportunity to dispense wisdom.  I wish I’d stopped to photograph them all now.  Each their own unique character, set aloft on a viewing mound or moss covered, a great way to keep a memory alive.  Also, very practical, not only for runners in need of a sit down, but for all the mere side users too.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

It was my last chance to capture car park marshal man, who posed beautifully for me with directional pointing and gazing into the distance that would be worthy of a catalogue man pose.  Wasted at parkrun – no scrap that, everyone should be at parkrun, it’s never a waste to give up your time to be there, what I’m really getting at is that there’s a whole new parallel world of opportunity available to him – he could start with workwear given his existing expertise in high vis and take it from there.

By the way, no alcohol at this parkrun, not round the lake anyway, and not in wine glasses either – presume swigging straight from the bottle is ok?  Anyway, it means you have to take your milestone celebrations back to the coffee hut area later I suppose, not such a hardship as all that!

So round again, taking in the view, taking some pics. Yes, I liked this parkrun, it wasn’t perhaps the most ostentatiously sociable one I’ve been to, but it had a friendly and comfortable vibe, and it was indeed picturesque and great for facilities too.

Round three, done and dusted.  Into the finish funnel and the virtual embrace of the welcome back.

It was very efficient, time keepers clicked me in and barcode scanners were on hand using the phone apps, which I think are increasingly becoming standard.  They certainly seem to be efficient, but I find they make the scanners harder to spot, the bizarre advantage of a bar scanner on a lanyard, is you spot the lanyard wearing marshal near the funnel and it’s usually the scanner.  Still, using my skill and judgement backed up with the directional guidance given to me by one of the finish funnel volunteers, I found the barcode scanner who cheerily obliged and posed for a photo too, always a win!

And, excitingly, I finished in position 222, this is not only pleasing in the number sequence, but today was my 222nd parkrun.  No really, it was!  What are the chances eh?  I’m not going to lie, I’d have preferred to get my last outstanding stopwatch bingo number, but as that apparently is never going to happen, ever, I’ll settle for the satisfying text from parkrun that read as follows:

Congratulations on completing your 222nd parkrun and your 1st at Congleton parkrun today. You finished in 222nd place

Little pleasures eh?  🙂

What were the chance eh?  Very pleasing.  My birthday is 22/2 too, this pleases me, even though objectively I know it all to be very random, still, where’s the harm.  We have to snatch what joy in the world we can, we live in dark times.

The weather was lovely, so I lingered a little longer to watch some other finishers and try to get the perfect shot, which it turns out is a lot harder than you think.  Here are some of the finishers behind me:

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

and here are some of my attempts to get the perfect shot to capture the spirit of Congleton parkrun.  Remember, I didn’t say I succeeded, only that I’d tried…  Check out the juniors token sorting though, great bit of team work there.  Also like the looking out across the horizon to seek out the last few runners pic.  Everybody matters, it’s still 5k irrespective of what position you cross the finish line in.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

So finally, off in search of coffee.  Once again, I can report this parkrun somewhat undersells itself.  The official blah de blah says ‘Every week we grab a post parkrun coffee at the mobile coffee van – please come and join us!’ and I’m sure I heard someone refer to a ‘hut’, like it was some kind of ramshackle wooden structure held together with optimism and string, I was imagining a sort of Victorian bathing hut, like these:

it was almost disappointing to find that in fact, there is a purpose built, rather chic and sleek coffee bar.  Spotlessly clean and doing decent coffee and snackery, including ice creams enabling Caroline’s earlier referenced benevolence.  You couldn’t get a cooked breakfast, but there were toasties.  If the posters are anything to go by, they are very hot on identifying potential allergens, though the crustacea on their posters look way too cute to eat anyway.

I had a coffee from them,  and a banana I’d brought with me.  People sat in the autumn sunshine catching up, it had a nice social feel to it, and I think if this was your local parkrun you’d soon make friends if you wanted to.  The glass panels did make it look as if the people eating outside were actually entombed in if not a glass dome as such, then at the very least a terrarium.  They looked happy enough though, but then I suppose parkrun is really it’s own self contained ecosystem when operating at its finely tuned best, as is clearly the case here at Congleton parkrun.

And that was that, time to go home, I departed just as the Dogfather (see what he’s done there) was gathering some hounds around him for some sort of instructional dog related activity.  It was all happening here.

Mission accomplished, because also, rrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr, I am now a pirate!  Hurrah!  Pirates! – Run seven Cs and an R (say it out loud).  I have this virtual running badge, courtesy of the running challenges chrome extension, that I can now admire, like Gollam, poring over my own private treasure, though unlike poor Gollam and his precious, no-one else can wrestle this virtual trophy away from me.  No wonder he was such a tortured soul, I can’t imagine how I’d feel if some blooming hobbit tricked me into losing this.  Poor Gollam, he didn’t deserve that really now did he.  The picture is of me, staring at my laptop, admiring my new icon on my runners profile.  That’s how obsessions start apparently, we shall see…

To be fair, it’s a bit weird, because I am pleased to have this badge, really I am, but it is also a bit anti-climactic.  Perhaps I should have dressed up as a pirate or something to make it more of a thing, or maybe it turns out it was the journey to get this that was more the point than the thing itself.

So parkrun remains fun, although whether it is as much fun as a rat has playing hide and seek I just don’t know.  I am pretty confident it is though, and you just can’t hear the parkrunners squeaks of joy because those sonic giggles are also at too high a frequency.  Yep, that’ll be it.  No other explanation would suffice.

Oh, and another thing, if you are feeling down, and you don’t have a rodent around as an emotional support animal with which you can distract yourself by playing hide and seek, and if it’s too long to wait until next parkrunday, why not just purchase an emotional support clown to accompany you for any important work meetings.  Like this guy did when they were being fired.   No really he did, took a clown along to his redundancy meeting to help break the tension!  It was on the BBC news website so it must be true!  The clown made balloon animals throughout.  Excellent.  I do feel if one is going to burn one’s bridges, one ought to do so in style!

Well, I say to break the tension, but really as an almighty piss take and give his bosses the finger, even so, we all know this is genius, and definitely now incorporated into my future fantasy leave my job scenarios.  Excellent.  And to think I previously regarded myself as a bit phobic about clowns, but now I see they can indeed really bring joy into the world.  Hurrah.  See, things seem bad, really really bad, but we can still find things to smile at despite ourselves!  There is hope yet, slim hope perhaps, but hope nevertheless.  And if clowns aren’t your thing, well, we still have parkrun, and there’s even a new one just started at Castle Howard!  How awesome is that!  Can. Not.  Wait!

But whatever your running goals, or parkrun goals, keep reaching for them.  Sometimes the struggle to get there is actually the best thing.  Case in point.  I’m pleased with my pirates badge, but also feel a bit flat.  It was both the whole point and pointless and actually, the real point, was using it as a tool for choosing which parkrun to go to next.  And there are still a lifetime of parkuns out there for the taking, with more every week.  Aren’t we lucky, aren’t we blessed, and isn’t parkrun a wondrous thing.  Enjoy the parkrun journey, don’t worry about it being a cliche, it can still be a thing, and we needn’t let on.  It’s a Woodland Trust picture by the way,  I know, a pic that’s epic!

and also, you know how I said I get super excited at seeing a robin in my garden or froglets, well check out this siting.  An eft!  I nearly burst!  You can’t tell in the picture, but it’s just over an inch long and super cute.  FACT.

By the way,  you can read all my parkrun related posts here.  Or not.  It’s up to you.  You’ll need to scroll down for older entries though.  Hide and seek with your rodent companion  of choice might be more fun, but more energetic too, maybe some power napping in the guise of parkrun research is in order after all…

🙂