Digested read: tail-walking at Graves parkrun today. Most educational.
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:
and is described thus:
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.
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.
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.
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.
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
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.
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.
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.
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…
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.