You may find I have quite a bit to waffle on about from this particular Saturday … those of you who know will know (nom, nom, nom etc), and those of you who don’t will soon 🙂 !
.
.
To be fair, why wouldn’t you want to go to a parkrun known as Babbs Mill, no excuse needed, it’s such a brilliant name! It has a sort of snigger inducing ring to it. Like when small children shriek with hilarity on hearing the word bottom. I have personal experience of this, when doing the warm up at junior parkrun I encourage participants to try to kick their own bottoms with the heels of their feet – not anybody else’s, obvs – and the delighted laughter this instruction unleashes every time gives me a brief moment of believing I’m a comic genius. It’s glorious. There is something about the ring of the name ‘Babbs Mill’ that has the same effect on me. I’m not even quite sure why. It’s not even a euphemism as such, though it should be. It feels apt for the midlands as it sounds like the Birmingham term of endearment ‘Bab’ sort of like saying ‘hun’ or ‘babe’. Though please don’t call me either of those things unless it’s due to regional dialect. I find ‘duck’ or even ‘love’ absolutely fine. and being called ‘hen’ is positively melting in the right context, but it’s a nope to use ‘babe’ or ‘girl’ in reference to me. Just to be clear, it’s fine to use ‘babe’ in reference to an actual babe or Babe the Sheep Pig (obvs) and ‘girl’ in reference to an actual girl. In Birmingham, to be referred to as Bab would be fine too, almost like acceptance. Glad we’ve cleared that up.
I’m on a Nelson Roll it seems (not to be confused with a Nelson Breadcake; a Nelson Teacake; a Neslon Bap; a Nelson Cob; a Nelson Bun; a Nelson Batch; a Nelson Barm Cake; Nelson Muffin or even a Half Nelson). Remember how I said I wasn’t that fussed about the parkrun number based challenges? No? That’s good. I do hate being caught out.
So, having outed myself as knocking off a few Nelsons of late, partly by opportunistic chance at Concord parkrun #555 and then by a bit of enlightened forward planning at Hillsborough parkrun #444, I was offered the chance to join a local(ish) parkrun ambassador who has similarly started to eye up these nano (Nab A Nelson Opportunity) parkruns, seemingly ‘suddenly’ popping up all over the place. Including, most helpfully, some within reach of Sheffield. There is in fact a numbers predictor spreadsheet for parkrun out and about, which is brilliant and terrifying in equal measure. I would have carried on with maths and indeed taken spreadsheets very much more seriously if I’d known they could be such a game changer, parkrun wise. A worm hole of numerical joy, who knew? Keith BENNETT, creator of the same is a creative genius. I wonder how far the ripples from his creation have spread out. It’s certainly encouraged me to look at how I choose my parkrun destinations differently.
Anyway, back to me and my local parkrun ambassador and his other half, both of who I have come to know through volunteering all together at Sheffield Olympic Legacy Park junior parkrun. They had already planned to set forth to go to Solihull for the Babbs Mill parkrun 111 event, and kindly offered me a lift. Well, would have been rude not to galumph along with them given the invite. Hang on, I’ll see if I can find any pics of us all together at juniors – we had a hoot on Sunday last, it was our 100th event #lovejuniorparkrun – ok, so not one of us altogether it seems (note to self, serious omission, will attempt to rectify that shortly) but plenty of us and the event in general to give you the idea:
.
.
FYI, let me tell you dear reader, being offered a lift to a Nelson event is basically living the dream parkrun tourism wise. This has to be the way forward. You just rock up at some other person’s house and get chauffeur driven to your parkrun destination in style. What’s not to like? Rhetorical question dear reader, nothing whatsoever, it is a quite brilliant plan. Thank you parkrun buddies for your outstanding facilitation, as well as company. What an excellent parkrun adventuring morning we had. Just wait ’til you hear about the post parkrun faffery, you will be super impressed!
Where to start then, erm, how about some basic factoids. According to the Babbs Mill parkrun official website blah de blah:
The course is at Babbs Mill Local Nature Reserve, Kingshurst. The course is run on a mixture of tarmac paths and grass, paths can be narrow at certain points.
Course Description: The course starts on a tarmac path along the River Cole. After passing a playground on the right, turn left and cross over the bridge and then turn right. Continue along the path until you come across the open field on the left. Complete a circuit of the field and re-join the path going clockwise around the lake. Cross the car park and then follow the path back to the bridge. Cross the bridge and complete a 2nd identical lap. Next time upon reaching the bridge, continue straight on the path back to the finish line.
Please note: this parkrun may not be suitable for pushchairs due to the narrow and uneven surfaces. Please either visit the park or contact the event team who will be happy to discuss the course with you so you can make your own assessment.
Facilities: There is a café in the KEC church on Cooks Lane, opposite the park entrance*. This is open between 9:30am – 11:00am.
Car parking is at Tudor Grange Academy Kingshurst, Cooks Lane, Kingshurst, Solihull, B37 6NU.
*note, serious underselling of Church café here, it’s a destination in its own right. More of this later.
and it looks like this:
.
Yep, there is an actual Babb’s Mill too. That Babb’s gets an appropriately placed apostrophe, but – TRIGGER WARNING – the Babbs Mill Lake and parkrun seemingly do not. Though one of the notice boards did include an apostrophe in the name. So confusing! Perhaps this is a parkrun best avoided by any former members of the now disbanded ‘Apostrophe Protection Society‘ it might just cause them to implode, and frankly they have suffered enough. That’s not to say they wouldn’t be welcome, parkrun is always inclusive and of course they would be greeted with open arm’s. Its’ jus’t that it might all be jus’t too much for them to bear. That’s ok, we all mus’t do what we must for our own mental health and well being after all. However, I do feel a quick heads’ up is appropriate for tho’se impacted by ‘such thing’s. Your welcome.
And some parkrunpedia, by way of edutainment:
According to the Solihull.gov website ‘Babbs Mill Park was created in 1977 to commemorate the Silver Jubilee of HM Queen Elizabeth II. A haven for wildlife, it was recognised as a Local Nature Reserve in 2002‘ It’s a completely manmade lake which is quite extraordinary when you come to see it. It has it’s own Wikipedia page too. Which, excitingly, gives parkrun an actual mention, though not why Babbs Mill is called Babbs Mill, though it does give the giddying possibility that at one stage the parkrun might have been named Kingfisher or even Kingshurst parkrun. All the Kings. Good for any card based running challenges out there. It also explains the random houses you pass on the way round, that do seem a bit out of keeping, though great location for those lucky enough to live in one of them.
Babbs Mill Lake, sometimes called Kingshurst Lake, is a man-made lake in the Kingfisher Country Park in Kingshurst, Solihull in England. The lake was created as a balancing feature in times of flooding from the nearby River Cole.
History – The lake gives its name to Babbs Mill Park, created to commemorate the Silver Jubilee of Queen Elizabeth II in 1977. It was designated a Local Nature Reserve in 2002. In March 2016, Solihull Council’s planning committee approved a scheme to build 52 houses on land amounting to approximately seven per cent of the reserve.
Since August 2019, Babbs Mill Lake has hosted a parkrun, a free, weekly timed 5 km run/walk, every Saturday morning at 9am.
.
I’m going to assume that Babbs was a person. Of course, now I come to think of it there are many famous Babbs. A cursory search of the interweb reminds me that there was ‘Ken Babbs – a famous Merry Prankster who became one of the psychedelic leaders of the 1960s. He along with best friend and Prankster leader, Ken Kesey wrote the book Last Go Round.‘ I know, was on the tip of your tongue. How wonderful to be immortalised as a ‘merry prankster’, there are worse epitaphs. If not he, then surely you will know of ‘Speedy Babbs was a pioneering stunt motorcyclist who was famous for riding his “Globe of Death” at fairs and carnivals across America from the 1930s through the 1960s. Babbs performed his act into his 60s‘ In 1999 he was inducted into the AMA Motorcycle Museum Hall of Fame ‘where heroes live on’ so that’s good. He was a wing walker and stunt parachutist too if the globe of death isn’t impressive enough for you. I really want to do a wing walk one day, but it’s very expensive, though there is a place near York where you can do that. One day. And then there is of course ‘Keedie Green (née Babb, 21 October 1982, Wolverhampton) … a British classical crossover soprano[1] with a vocal range of three octaves, reaching a top A above a top E’ Accomplished lot these Babbs apparently. AccordingtoWikipediasoitmustbetrue ‘Babb is surname of mostly English origin which has been documented as far back as 1322 in Devon County, England.[1] While the name appears to have originated in the Devon area, Y-DNA Genetic testing has revealed a number of distinct lineages throughout various parts of England. The surname also appears in the Bavaria state of Germany. Y-DNA Genetic testing has confirmed that this Bavarian line does not relate to the Babbs of England.’ Oh, and it has since been pointed out to me that the most famous of Babbs is of course Barbara Windsor! Which of course my explain my Pavlovian snigger response to the word – a product of the comedy of her time, she is forever associated with the possession of a double entendre.
And in more *stop press* news, a kind soul has now enlightened me as to the original Babbster. It was apparently John Babb , a Miller who used to live at Babb’s Mill cottage. That makes a lot of sense. I also now know the parkrunpedia faction that whilst the parkrun is in Solihull but Babb’s Mill itself is in Birmingham. Love a bit of Facebook feedback. Thank you Babbs Mill parkrun people for the extra info. You are the best!
Personally I’ve never met anyone with the surname Babb or Babbs, but I have just had a looksie in the parkrun results for the UK and found…. drum roll… there are loads of Babb and Babbsies, who knew? Apart from those blessed with the name itself. None were running at Babbs Mill parkrun for even #111 though, which is somewhat disappointing, maybe you’ll get lucky if you go. If it was done to me I’d try to connect all those Babbettes and get them to Babbs Mill on the same day – OMG people, 21st October 2023 is an actual Saturday, parkrunday, AND the birthday of Keedie Babb who only lives in Wolverhampton, that’s totally the day to do it! There must be a Babb out there who can channel their inner star trek meme and ‘Make it so’. And FYI, there are two people called John BABB and one John Babbidge registered, one of them is bound to be a miller. If so, I think they’d have to if not be the actual RD, at least start the parkrun, it’s going to be such a grand event!
Even if they don’t all get to go to Babbs Mill parkrun one day, you most certainly should, it’s a properly lovely space! I stole this photo from the Babbs Mill parkrun Facebook page, you can’t blame me though can you, not so much ‘stealing’ more ‘sharing’ – people need to know!
.
.
Shamefully perhaps, I hadn’t researched any of this in advance, the offer of a lift to a new-to-me event and a Nelson was more than enough to entice me. I have to face the truth, it’s like if someone set up an X initialled parkrun that was 500 laps of a multi storey I have to admit I’d probably rock up there. I may be shallow, but I know my buttons. Anyway, the choosing might be on peripheral attributes, but the challenges in general do encourage seeking out places and people you might never otherwise have reason to encounter. And you know what, I am so very glad I made it to Babbs Mill parkrun, because, turns out, this is a pretty extraordinary and wild space, despite being a less than promising location on the approach.
On a more sombre note, what I had forgotten until arriving at the park, was why the name seemed so familiar to me. Alas, it is because in December last year, three boys drowned in the Lake here after falling through ice, with a fourth dying later in hospital. It was a big news story nationwide at the time, and for the local community must still feel very raw. The parkrun was cancelled in the weeks following, up to and including on Christmas Day, but restarted earlier this year. It’s a tough call. I can understand people potentially feeling uncomfortable about attending a parkrun in this space given its association with such terrible events. For myself though, I feel that filling such community parks with more positive memories and encouraging people to come together can only be a good thing. I don’t doubt all parkrun venues will have witnessed awful things over their histories, but perhaps we should not let the worst thing to happen in a space define it in perpetuity. However, this is very recent history. it is worth being sensitive to the impact of these events these deaths. Remembering the lost boys is important, and the floral tributes in abundance make it clear that their memory is very much to the fore. I feel I can’t write up an account of our visit without acknowledging all of this context. I made a point of taking a moment to absorb where we were, reflect on what had happened, and then focused on my parkrun. Reclaiming the space and allowing the community to come together to heal seems the right course for me, but you do you. Notice the flowers though. I’m not keen on floral tributes as dead flowers make me sad, but I get the need for people to do something to express solidarity and sympathy with those impacted by what has happened, and the visible offerings certainly shows the sense of shared loss the area is experiencing.
.
.
Take a moment. And breathe.
Back to parkrun, and to the big event.
And a big event was anticipated indeed. I don’t know if it’s just that I’ve suddenly noticed Nelson so to speak, or if it really is becoming a bit more of a thing. Either way, Babbs Mill parkrun was bracing itself for a biggie!
.
.
There are plenty of versions as to why a 111 (or multiple thereof) is a Nelson, he never actually lost a leg though did he? But then why let the truth get in the way of a good story eh. Quite. I don’t particularly care, just want to nab one, and wish I’d thought to wear a fancy admiral hat, though I did walk with a stick, so that makes me a three legger or possibly a one one one in my own right. Like Jake the Pake (with an extra leg) but without the unfortunate Rolf Harris associations…
.
.
Point is, they were expecting a larger crowd than usual, though they do have form for that. They had a big jump in numbers when the Running Show was on as many down for that took the opportunity to gather at Babbs. Check out the vlog from Danni Runs for more about that. They had 352 finishers that day, compared with their average finish numbers of about 108.1 – which is tantalisingly close to 111 I think we can agree. Only need another 2.9 average finishers to bump it up. This week, the numbers were raised again, but to 153, still nearly double the previous week though. Oh, and fyi, at event 101 there were exactly 111 finishers, which pleases me, a splendid two palindromes right there! There were also exactly 111 finishers at event #84, but that is a somewhat less inspiring number combination for me, although I do recall that in 1984 was a turbulent year politically, I seemed to go on lots of demonstrations. Supporting miners, protesting at other things. It was also the year of the Brighton bombing at the Tory party conference, the year Thomas the Tank Engine was first broadcast and that Geneticist Alec Jeffreys discovers DNA fingerprinting apparently. Band Aid happened this year, and discussions began re the return of Hong Kong to China. Oh and the last episode of The Young Ones was broadcast on tv – although as far as I’m aware those two happenings are unrelated. This makes me think actually was quite an extraordinary year for me in terms of my personal and political awakening, but it wasn’t an especially fun one. I also now feel really old, as I realise my formative years are now part of a younger generation’s distant history. 1984 must seem as distant to them as 1948 does to me. Oh Lordy, I believe I even had a perm, though in my defence I also had purple hair for part of the eighties. Can you still get Crazy Colour, that was truly fabulous! Blimey this was pre interweb even. And when you had to find places using physical maps or by asking directions, and we didn’t even have a landline in the house yet alone a mobile phone! I don’t just feel old, I feel really old. Oh well, lucky I’ve still got a hobby eh, given my extreme ancientness and ever approaching decrepitude. parkrun will keep me eternally young or your money back right? I think that’s how it goes. Lucky I didn’t disappear down a wormhole of recalling 1984 and just stuck with the palindrome thing eh.
Although, wasn’t room 101 from the book 1984? Spooky. See how all numbers can be linked? Yep, just checked, it was ‘Room 101, located in the Ministry of Love, is the room where prisoners are sent to be confronted by their deepest fear.’ So for me, on Saturday, that would be oversleeping and missing my appointment with parkrun… Just to illustrate the point, shudder. For Winston in 1984 it was rats, for Indiana Jones, snakes I believe.
Anyway, stop distracting me with all these questions about 1984 and 101 and 111 or we’ll never make the parkrun start line. Where was I? Oh yes, adding to the numbers of participants nabbing a Nelson at Babbs Mill. Part of the parkrun crowd would be we three, meeting again. Now where have I heard a variation on that phrase before I wonder? Nope, it entirely escapes me.
Our meeting up on parkrun day began with my lying awake all night fearful of oversleeping and somewhat wired. I’d had a really good – but full on – week, doing some filming over in Manchester which was just joyful. I can’t tell you anything about it or I’d have to kill you, but it was affirming and I came away with anecdotes (albeit secret ones); a very nice vintage tea cake recipe book; top tips on vegan cake baking; a wider network and I met an actual hand doubling super star. I know. The circles I move in, I get why some might be well jel, to use the funky youth speak. And the head of wardrobe loved my charity shop jacket, so I felt vindicated in my impulse buying splurge in the interests of extending my costuming repertoire. Phew. Eventually, the actual alarm went off and I was up and out the door. It was a dry day, perfect driving conditions, and it was an easy drive over Chesterfield way to pick up my lift. It was dark, but quiet, and I felt really good about the day ahead. I was a bit early, because I always panic about being late, and was somewhat discombobulated to find their house in darkness, was it the right one? It was, the lights were soon on and the door opened and I was welcomed in. Then off we went to Solihull.
Long drives to parkrun are sooooo much easier when you are just the deadweight absolved of all responsibility in the back of the car. The vehicle eased through the miles with a smooth and silent ride, and we talked all things parkrun as we went. We arrived at the parkrun venue in good time, and saw the start pop up sign and various cones up and high vis heroes busying themselves around the park. There was a smallish carpark near to the start, but we were in search of a precautionary pee point. This was another big win for me, travelling companions who view this as a necessity not an optional extra, it wasn’t just me longingly gazing through the windows in search of a suitable venue for a pit stop! The downside, was that we ended up in McDonalds, somewhere I try never to cross the threshold into. We only nipped in to use the facilities and for that I was grateful. They were immaculate, no queues and parking outside, and in an age where there just aren’t public loos to be found any more, I am grateful for that. And we didn’t have to buy anything either, so good to know. It was I think about a mile away from the parkrun.
En route to the McDonalds, we passed the suggested parking for the parkrun, but we chanced the small carpark as we returned, no joy, but worth a looksie. We headed back from whence we came, and espied a solitary space behind a van just around the corner. Another parkrun tourist emerged and we mutually congratulated ourselves on our good fortune and swapped tourist tales as we walked over the road to the starting line up. Everything was going perfectly!
The sun was shining, the atmosphere was buzzing, the locals were friendly, the tourists were plentiful! I love a bit of parkrun tourism, and it is definitely more fun if you can do it with others.
.
.
After a bit of exploration and faffery, we were summoned for the first timers’ welcome. It was a jolly affair, with an actual map, and much encouragement. There were some actual genuine first time everers which always heartens me. I can’t remember if it was this briefing or the RDs one where there was a suggestion that really all the marshals should be standing on one leg throughout in acknowledgement of the event number. It’s a cricketing thing again apparently – actually, it might have been on Facebook, but you get the idea. Yep it was on the Facebook post letting everyone know the naval hats were optional, and it was umpires who had to stand on one leg when the score was 111 it seems, so that would suggest RD rather than marshal, but I’d make both hopping around on one leg and wearing naval hats compulsory if it was down to me. Oh well, don’t want to undermine the core team, they did a grand job overall, just needed to hold their nerve a bit more apropos of the fancy dress.
Oh, and we were warned about the main hazard for the event which is early on, where there is a concrete bollard in the middle of the path. It had it’s own cone though, so unless you had a visual impairment it was pretty clearly highlighted. Mind you, at junior parkrun I’ve seen juniors run headlong into the side of skips so there is no accounting for the unpredictability of human movements at a parkrun it seems! There were no casualties today, as far as I’m aware.
.
.
Next stop, mandatory pop up sign photos. They still have a big Babbs sign, the mini pop up having not made it out here as yet. We both posed for our own photos and photographed others. I love these little rituals. It’s perhaps the parkrun equivalent of a water cooler moment. Tourists all gather and interact as they queue and help facilitate photos for others or pose themselves, and it’s all good natured and fluid and helps to build the anticipatory excitement.
.
.
I ambled about doing more photos. I was trying to capture a flavour of the event. The downside of touristing is that you can just parachute in to do an event one and only time and if I don’t make a point of recording it somehow they can blur into one. That’s partly what’s behind this blog to be fair, I want to capture the memories for myself at least, every parkrun matters, they are all unique and interesting and joyful in their own way. parkrun tourism is always a micro adventure worth undertaking from when it is little more than a name on your radar to post parkfaffery and returning home. What did any parkrunner ever do before parkrun day was a thing? It pains me to even think of it. Was there ever really truly such a time? It seems inconceivable to me now. Lawks a lordy – that’s perhaps why the eighties were so tough, parkrun wasn’t even a glint in our founder’s eye back then. #hardtoimagine Dark days indeed!
.
.
Next happening was the Run Director’s Briefing. People politely assembled in the start funnel, seeing a couple of parkwalkers resplendent in their powder blue high vis was an encouraging sight – so too the parkwalk sign leaning against the pop up banner when we arrived. It was low key, but visible. There was a friendly welcome, an acknowledgement of the Nelson Number luring tourists from near and far, a happy 40th Wedding Anniversary greeting, a milestone cheer and welcome to tourists from near and far – oh and an enthusiastic round of applause for the high vis heroes too.
.
.
And then pretty swiftly and we were AWF!
I continue to be taken by surprise by the running aspect of parkrun, the mass start gets me every time! Yes, yes, I need a new camera, but also they were just running so fast at the front they passed by in a blur!
.
.
and I slotted in towards the back as is my way, and pootled onwards. Inevitably I drop further and further back, partly because I can’t maintain my pace, partly because I needed to stop and reorientate myself from time to time and partly because not only were there spectacularly photogenic marshals who needed to be thanked and acknowledged, but the park itself was full of hidden treasures.
.
The lake itself is surprisingly wild. It’s not the formal city park pond I’d imagined. The edges have tall waving reedbeds which look beautiful and provide plenty of cover for wildlife. There is native planting and running water as well. There are kingfishers to be seen – though not by me today, and the bird song was amazing. It took me a while to recognise that some of the noise was from parakeets, but once a marshal mentioned them they seemed to be everywhere. They remind me so much of Bushy parkrun. I’m a a little conflicted because it probably isn’t the best that non native parakeets are making their way ever further north, we even have some in Sheffield. They are however spectacular. I accept them in Bushy park because they are so well established and it isn’t a natural habitat any more, though it is a sanctuary for some species. I feel though for the parakeets as with the grey squirrels in London they are here to stay and a colourful part of the city wildlife. The route went over little bridges, through wooded paths. The surface was overwhelmingly good, but if I recollect correctly there was a short more traily bit, but nothing too technical. It’s also basically flat, certainly by Sheffield standards.
.
.
My favourite bits were the huge reeds alongside the water, but gazing up into the tree tops was pretty cool too. It is an extraordinary nature reserve in the middle of seemingly urban space. A fabulous sanctuary with much to see.
.
.
Oh, and another favourite bit was seeing my travel buddies the other side of the water as they were finishing a lap round the lake I was just starting out on! Maybe you had to be there to get the full impact, but we did do some enthusiastic waving and whooping at one another before heading off on our respective parkrun pathways! You get to go around the lake twice, so that’s fun.
.
.
One thing that was a bit weird was the proximity of quite dense housing seemingly right within the boundaries of the reserve. It would be amazing to live in one of them, but seemed sub optimum for protection of wildlife. I couldn’t help wondering if that was partly why the litter situation was so lamentable. This was the shocker. Whilst Babbs Mill parkrun gets 10/10 for the welcome, the venue, the post parkrun parkfaffery all the things, it was unquestionably the most horribly littered parkrun I’ve ever been to. Maybe it’s a consequence of recent rain raising water levels which have then dropped back leaving rings of discarded litter surrounding every water course as a tide mark. The path was strewn with not just the odd bit of litter but no patch seemed clear, and big litter items too. Full nappies chucked aside endless takeaway boxes, cans, bottles, crisp packets, it was very depressing. I always try to pick up a couple of bits of litter when I attend any event but here it was so overwhelming I wouldn’t have known where to start and I guess that’s the problem. It is a beautiful space but in desperate need of a mass clean up, and then perhaps it might stay in better order as there would be an incentive to keep it so. It did detract somewhat from the experience because it makes me so sad. There were cheery robins cheeping, and parakeets overhead and amazing habitat everywhere and yet the polluting litter would be hazardous to any creature actually making its home there. Maybe I was unlucky with the timing of my visit, but I hope a team, volunteers or otherwise, are able to tackle it soon. I thought littering could be bad near me, but fortunately we have a very active Sheffield Litter Pickers group which maybe helps, as well as several ‘friends of’ groups for the various green spaces, they keep on top of things. This park is a fabulous place, but could do with a little tlc (tender, loving care).
*stop press* there is a dedicated team of litter pickers on an endless quest to keep the park clean. I salute them. There is also a volunteer who regularly litter picks the area around the parkrun start, and in fairness, that area was indeed pristine – no litter at all, so thanks to them for their efforts. I litter pick myself and it can be demoralising at times so yay for those who keep on, keeping on, you are super heroes!
Despite this, it was a friendly space, dog walkers exchanged greetings with me warmly as I wended my way around, and it was being well used, not just by parkrunners and dogwalkers but plenty of others too. If I lived nearby I’d be out there every day for sure, I bet you see loads of life through the seasons, and you’d get to know all the regulars too.
Unsurprisingly, I soon found myself the final finisher bar the tail walkers. My parkrun buddies who’d finished, circled back to join me which was nice and companionable. As I did the final lap marshals stood down and took down the various course markers. It felt relaxed and friendly and there are clearly regulars who all know one another which is always a good sign at a parkrun.
.
.
We twalked to the finish (walked and talked) and as they’d already been through, they peeled off as I headed through the funnel. The volunteers were cheerily waiting with the funnel in tact, and I didn’t feel under any pressure as a parkwalker which was a big relief, and always a bonus rather than a given at my speed. The returning marshals carrying the ‘caution runner’ and other signs looked like a very polite placard possessing protest group. More flashbacks to the eighties perhaps. Once me and the tailwalkers were scanned in, the pack up and results uploading happened in earnest. Busy, busy busy!
.
.
As everything was very much under control, we said our thanks and then we headed out of the park, over the road and the short distance to the community café, which is situated within a church nearby. This was the recommended place for coffee. I’d heard it was good, but oh my, not this good!
We entered the rather characterless red brick building with modest expectations. Unfolding before us was a large busy café space within a church which was big on Alpha courses in case that is a factor that would influence your decision to go. A singer with a microphone provided musical accompaniment, and a large video of a real fire was being projected onto one of the walls. There was a lively buzz. One of the staff was sporting a large ’18 today’, birthday badge, and church members circulated to welcome parkrunners at their tables. The menu is limited, but as it was limited to basically the most enormous and delicious waffles the world has ever seen I was prepared to forgo my usual savoury post parkrun feed in favour of these things of beauty. The coffee was great too, and it was really good value. £3 for a waffle – and just wait ’til you see the size of it; £2 for a very good coffee, and then bizarrely 50p for a glass of tap water. I did not begrudge them this at all, as it was ridiculously good value for the waffles, but it was so inconsistent to be charged for that. The atmosphere was great, and everyone sang happy birthday to the young woman who was 18 today and cheered a happy anniversary in chorus to the couple who were celebrating their fortieth wedding anniversary. They looked a bit awkward at that, but who cares! It was a lovely debrief at the end of a most excellent parkrun experience. Oh, and there was an abundance of immaculate toilets too, as well as tea served in a pot, all very civilised.
It is true you may well come to Babbs Mill for the parkrun, or your Nelson number, or the Babbs gathering on 21st October 2023 – but you’ll surely stay for the waffles! If you don’t, you are missing a trick, unless you are vegan, I don’t recall a vegan option, but happy to be corrected on that point.
.
.
Tempting as the waffles were, we did take the precaution of photographing prior to eating them and some photos made it up on social media. This caused terrible, FOMO nigh on existential FOMW amongst some. It was bad enough forgoing the parkrun and the nelson but the FOMW (fear of missing waffles) catapulted this sense of exclusion to a whole new level. I would like to say I’m sorry about that, but I’m not really. You’ll just have get yourself down there and make it right! And I know that one respondent has indicated that the only cure for FOMW is a very good pie, but I think that was just a bit of Facebook posturing in the comments, no-one really believes you Ambassador Z.
And that was that. A particularly splendid morning of parkrun tourism. Thank you team Babbs Mill for welcoming so many tourists and providing an enthusiastic, supportive, friendly and chilled event. It must be a bit daunting ahead of a Nelson number, having no idea how many might descend, but the event went with great aplomb. It’s one I’d happily return to. Incidentally, Wimbledon has a 777 coming up next week I think, they are going to need a bigger funnel.
All parkruns are unique and magnificent in their own ways, but I did genuinely like this one a lot, and it would be a good one to go back to in a different season perhaps. If you are local to it, I have a sense it would be one you could feel a part of too. Isn’t that grand. Rhetorical question, yes it is.
And then it was drive home to Sheffield, and photo gazing and then junior parkrun all over again the next day. Hurrah for parkrun weekends. They are The Best.
Are you still here? Thanks for staying the course. Hope your parkrun or other adventuring was just as grand.
If you are at a loose end and game to keep going with your parkrun research then you could always browse through all my parkrun related posts here. Or not. It’s up to you. You’ll need to scroll down for older entries though. Hopefully though you’ll have an actual parkrun story of your own to reflect on or look forward to, every parkrunner does.
or you could triangulate my version of events by checking out the Babbs Mill parkrun report for event #111 shout outs and reference to the eleventy first happening of Babbs Mill parkrun – now why didn’t I think of that? I do like an eleventy something number 🙂
Be happy til next parkrun day.
🙂
Oh, and if you do make it to Babbs Mill, check this graffiti out, you’ll see it exiting the church, it must relate to something, but I know not what.
.
*Stop press* I got some feedback about the graffiti, it’s sad I’m afraid, but maybe a positive spin on it is that the search goes on. It refers to ‘the milk carton boys‘ two children aged 13 and 11 who went missing on Boxing Day 1996, the pair, became known as the Milk Carton Kids after a nationwide campaign. On the 25th anniversary of their disappearance interest was reignited in their case following a TV documentary, and a dig was organised. They remain unaccounted for, but this powerful image shows they are not forgotten. A poignant image indeed.
Hold your loved ones close.
The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse by Charlie Mackesy/Ebury Press or watch the film on iPlayer. It will make you cry though. Unless you have a heart of ice. But in a nice way, it’s just such a delightful and warm perspective on life and friendship and everything. Check it out.
please.
Running Scared 
Glad that you enjoyed your post-parkrun faff in the church of the immaculate…..convenience. 😉
LikeLike