I feel all squidgy and nice inside thinking about this particular parkrun. It was just such a perfect parkrun day. The kind of experience you just wish you could bottle and keep with you to sniff – or indeed snort – in times of need. Such an inoculation of joy was received by all I bet we were still bouncy at the memory of it long after we had completely dried out – which for the record was a very, very long time indeed. Just the slightest whiff from that bottle and the most down cast of spirits would surely be revived. Lo! Even to hear the very phrase ‘do you remember that cowol time we had at Trentham?’ whispering through time and space as a half life memory will be enough to send positive ripples through the universe for generations and all will be well with the world. Good to know.
To be fair, though a bottle of the spirit of this parkrun day would be nice, some of us can go even better. For I left this parkrun not only with giddying, hilarious and positive memories, but an actual pocket hug to carry with me. I know! Amoozing! More of this later. Suffice to say this was truly a parkrun with ALL THE THINGS!
OK, but where to start. Erm, so much to say, so little structure in my head about how to get it out there. Oh well, let’s just dive in and see where we end up eh?
Through parkrun people get to know one another, that’s not really news, it’s a pleasing and almost inevitable consequence of communities coming together each week to run, walk, jog, volunteer, twalk (walk and talk) in their local spaces. That’s splendid, obvs. However, one unexpected consequence of lockdown was that the parkrun community for some moved online. Community cohesion not just survived, but flourished due to parkrun passionistas various connecting through things like the Quarantine Quiz (still happening if you want to virtually rock up) and of course the With Me Now (unofficial parkrun) podcast not only continuing its weekly broadcast but adding in Facebook lives, parkrunpedia, pictionary all sorts. There is a deep irony, that because no-one could go out anywhere, where you were located didn’t really matter, so new parkrun friendships sprung up from all over the place. All over the uk, and internationally too, particularly to Germany what with the quarantine quiz and all. Roll forward, parkrun returned (hurrah) and now we could all meet up again, there was renewed enthusiasm to meet up with friends old and new. Friends we hadn’t yet met even! parkrun tourism has always been a thing, but now it has taken on a more erm, collective focus. Individuals who are celebrating parkrun related achievements share their destinations and people rock up from near and far to join in the fun. It’s grand! It has always been possible to rock up at a new event and be welcomed by a parkrun team, but this sense of belonging is magnified when you can rock up at a new event and see a swarm of familiar faces up for a parkrun party. It’s pretty extraordinary. So it was, that when one of our number announced they’d be doing their Cowell run (100 unique parkrun destinations completed) on the 14th January at Trentham Gardens parkrun, with fancy dress, parkrun people and probably quality vegan cupcakes, it wasn’t the hardest decision of all time to want to get along there.
As usual, tediously, I was worried about the drive down as it was a long one. I’m working out that counter-intuitively perhaps, it works better for me if I have one full on long day rather than two consecutive demanding ones. If I go the night before then I’m shattered by the drive so parkrun can be a bit too far out of my comfort zone even walking it as I now do. On the other hand, going on the day means heading out in the dark, but if I can make it through the morning and then just faceplant on the sofa comatose for the next few days that can be more achievable. The other angst inducing consideration, was that there was an ominous clash of dates, with a Scunthorpe meet up mooted by northern parkrun buddies. I never have a social calendar so squished that I have commitments coincide so it was sod’s law on steroids that I was faced with this dilemma. Fortunately, the parkrun fairies worked their magic, happy chance brought a mini meet up at Sheffield Castle parkrun last week, and then actual fairies oversaw the Trentham Gardens parkrun gathering. Hurrah. All’s well that ends well indeed!
Honestly, I didn’t particularly research Trentham Gardens parkrun in advance, just focused on where it was and how to get there. I didn’t even properly register it was a one lap course, though I do like those. I just clocked a load of people I knew would be gathering for a special parkrunner’s graduation from being ‘just’ a cow to being a full on Cowell and that was good enough for me. Sheep like, I’d endeavour to be there. However, you dear reader are very much wiser, and perhaps will appreciate some of the usual website blah de blah, so let’s start with that:
According to the Trentham Gardens parkrun website:
The event takes place at Trentham Gardens, Trentham Estate, Stone Road, Trentham, Stoke-On-Trent, ST4 8JG.
and the course is described thus:
Course Description – A one lap route that circumnavigates Trentham Lake and takes you through the famous Italian Gardens on the Trentham Estate. The course is accessed via a footbridge close to Trentham Garden Centre. Please do not use the main entrance for Trentham Gardens (in the centre of the shopping village).
The start/finish of the 5k route is inside the Trentham Gardens estate but all participants must exit the Gardens at the end of parkrun. Access is granted by the Trentham Estate for the purpose of the event.
Facilities – The shopping village and garden centre offers a vast array of eateries and shops. The main entrance to Trentham Gardens is located in the centre of the village – charges apply for entry to the Gardens.
For those parkrunners travelling a distance, there is a Premier Inn on the site.
Location of start – The event starts in Trentham Gardens.
Free parking is available on the Trentham Estate car park. We would request that you park on the main car park (to the left of the main entrance) and not the car park next to Trentham Garden Centre if possible. It is about a 5 minute walk from the main car park to the start.
Post Run Coffee – Every week we grab a post parkrun coffee at The Rotisserie in Trentham Shopping Village – please come and join us!
and the course looks like this:
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Good to know. Also good to know, the parkrunner at the epicentre of this gathering was on track for this to be her 100th unique parkrun destination. The first parkrunner to achieve this feat was Cowell, so following in his footsteps has become known as achieving a Cowell, and so she’d be wearing Cow fancy dress for the first half of the name, and two L plates for the ells at the end. Clever she be! What I didn’t know at this stage, was there would also be a fine fellow parkrunning participant achieving her fiftieth unique parkrun so her half Cowell and therefore her cow, so moorvelously there would be extra bonus bovines in attendance. Various of their acolytes would also be in attendance, wearing parts of cows (maybe horns, or ears or monochrome outfits) or, as in my case, living the bovine dream with my inherently bovine demeanour and appearance. I decided to properly commit, by offering my services as a tail walker in advance. There was a gap and this looked like a fine way to relive the joy of the forest bathing gang that gathered at Chevin Forest parkrun last year. Yes, this was going to be grand. Hurrah! Oh, and I have a postcode to head to, all good.
The morning dawned. Dark and damp, very damp, a lot of rain to be fair. Sub optimal quantities of water falling from the sky. I left at stupid o-clock because I was up early anyway (occasionally insomnia delivers a benefit) and I wanted to have an unhurried drive. The drive from Sheffield was basically ok, I took it steady and there was only the one near death experience coming off the motorway when a lorry overtook me on the slip road just as we entered an enormous amount of standing water. Think less puddle and more lake. Or more accurately a great deal more puddle leading to essentially the biggest inland lake in the entire universe EVER (probably). I got such a tsunami of water over my vehicle that my windscreen wipers were rendered useless, I had zero visibility and it was properly terrifying. But I emerged into visibility unscathed and the surge of adrenalin certainly kept me hyper vigilant and alert for the rest of the drive.
I did my usual trick of missing the turning so had to go beyond and head on back. I’d printed out all the directions so knew to park on the left hand side in the main car park. There was LOADS of parking. Excitingly, I also passed a Premier Inn on the way in. Overnighters staying here prior to the parkrun could basically topple out of bed and onto the parkrun course. Well nearly they could. It’s not quite as close as the B&B at the start line of Buxton’s Pavilion Gardens parkrun, but hardly an arduous trek to the course either navigationally or by distance. It would have been fun to overnight there but it wasn’t essential for me and out of budget at the minute too to be fair. The choice of where to park was somewhat overwhelming.
I hadn’t done my research, or I’d have known to expect a full on retail centre and formal gardens with an entrance foyer and admission charges. I now know, if I’d read the blah de blah properly, that you are not supposed to go to the main entrance. I hadn’t so headed to the main entrance, to find it shut until 8.30 a.m. local regular dog walkers were queueing up in a good natured gathering waiting for it to open. I availed myself of some nearby loos, which mercifully were open, and then returned to find the entrance area opened. I limped in to the foyer, gesturing my parkrun wrist band, and was directed round to a side entrance near to the garden centre which is where I should have gone in the first place. This is opened especially for parkrunners to access the grounds prior to opening, and guarded by two parkrunners when I arrived, presumably one who always lies, and one who always tells the truth, but I can’t be sure, as I didn’t actually ask them, but was rather just waved through the very impressive double set of hugely high iron railings that were either side of a little bridge over a water course.
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Oh wow, this was going to be proper lovely. Though more than a bit wet.
Exciting though!
I followed the parkrunners ahead to the gathering point, and reported for duty. A very friendly RD welcomed me, and there was already a quite a gathering. Oh look, cows! Also mud. Extra slippery mud. The comedic slapstick started almost instantly, as people tried to take refuge under a nearby tree but needed to negotiate a mud slide to do so. Despite hollers of ‘be careful’ and ‘watch out it’s really slip… oh’ there were a few skidders and skaters and at least one full on backslide resulting in a mud covering worthy of a high-end, comprehensive full-body mud-spa beauty treatment, only with less lovely healing minerals and more grassy gritty bits. None the worse for that I’m sure. Quite a bit colder than the thermal mud wrap offerings though, and definitely no fluffy towels , but then again no actual injuries either, so all good. The only bruising was to personal pride, but dignity wasn’t big on the personal attributes of many of the participants today if the fancy dress efforts were anything to go by.
The volunteer team did their necessaries, lamenting the no-show of the weather marshal as cloud cover exploded into torrential rain. The parkrun fairies normally do better than this. Oh well.
The mandatory photo taking began early. Group shots, and then the more observant amongst us having our heads turned by what turned out to be just the first of many Trentham fairies. Ooh, this parkrun venue is really quite something! Oh, and we need costume shots, and vista shots, and selfie shots, and group shots and ooh another group shot because we missed some people out, and volunteer shots. Enough shots for a full covid vaccination programme for a small city at the very least I reckon. Here are but some of the many offerings. By the way, I’ve borrowed photos freely from all over the place and can’t honestly remember what came from where any more, so thanks to those I’ve lifted from, thanks for those whose images I’ve shared, thanks for those who have posed in pics and thanks for all who were there whether captured on film or not.
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After quite a prolonged period greeting each other in what must be the parkrun equivalent of dogs sniffing each other’s bottoms, we were distracted by the call out for the first timers’ welcome. Dear reader, I can report this was particularly excellent. Welcoming, informative, witty and shout out for the milestone parkrunners even if there was begrudging acknowledgement they might be ‘rather hard to spot!’. Joking, obvs. There were a few first time everers which was especially impressive. This is an amazing venue, but honestly, the weather was not conducive for making a parkrun debut for any but the most dedicated of first timers. I salute them all.
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The course was explained, a one lapper, but with a cattle grid. Uh oh. Our cow companions hadn’t entirely thought this through. But wait, it would be fine, kindly high vis marshals had laid across the grids sacrificing themselves so others may cross. Or if not actually them, then their high vis tabards, and if not the actual high vis tabards then maybe they’d got some proper cattle grid boarding to do the job for them. We’d fathom it out between us, and if not, I’m pretty sure it’s in the ‘any other duties’ section of the parkrun marshal job description that they will carry cows over cattle grids to help them negotiate when required, just as they will lift parkrunners aloft and trot over bridges to help them avoid trolls where needed. They are a helpful and self-sacrificing lot high vis marshals. They are the best.
We dispersed, and just as we did so, I was approached by a group with dogs, also arriving for their first ever parkrun but who’d missed the briefing. I did my best to explain the basics, which are basically follow along and ‘have fun!’. I learned the importance of communicating this only real parkrun rule from watching Mr junior parkrun himself, Paul Graham doing his junior parkrun briefings, and it really does distil down everything you need to know most succinctly. They went off to join the throng and then then there was a lovely RD briefing. Such a lovely parkrun, it seemed like even the heavens had brightened somewhat. Briefing completed, and we were awf.
It was quite a sedate awf to be fair. It was wet around the edges of the tarmac path, very wet, and with over 500 parkrunners a busy start area. As far as I could tell all were pretty patient and polite, why would you want to hurry round such a glorious course. Me and the cattle and the parkwalkers held back to enjoy the sight of the parkrunners peeling off, and then slotted in the rear.
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and then we were on our way, for a fantabulous jaunt round Trentham Gardens.
Can we just have a little parkrunpedia interlude for Trentham Gardens please. I had never even heard of them, but once again parkrun adventuring took me to a location I might never have otherwise discovered, and it was properly amazing!
Trentham Estate ‘Trentham is a special place. 725 acres of spectacular natural beauty and home to award-winning Gardens, glorious ancient Woodland, a unique outdoor shopping village, events galore and so much more. From the tranquillity of the garden and wildlife walks to the wonder of the Monkey Forest and the thrill of Treetop Adventures, there really is something for everyone at Trentham.‘
Having completed the parkrun I can confirm it is definitely a special place AND an area of spectacular natural beauty. We might not have seen absolutely everything, but the single lap certainly takes in a mighty portion of its wonders.
‘At the heart of Trentham Gardens is the spectacular, mile-long, Capability Brown-designed Trentham Lake. Studded with small islands the Lake is alive with the sights and sounds of a wonderful array of wildlife. The circular lakeside walk takes in views of the River Trent, ancient wildflower meadows and woodlands, through the cascading weir and along atmospheric nature trails. There is so much to explore and be inspired by, including the bold and dramatic naturalistic planting design; ‘modern meadows’ by Nigel Dunnett creator of the acclaimed plantings at the Olympic Park, London. Created for successional seasonal interest and environmental suitability’
Usually, it’s £10.50 admission for an adult in winter, or £13 summer prices, but as a parkrunner you can come in for free, do the parkrun and then exit by 10.30. This is an absolute bargain, as you not only see a lot of the estate, you also see it pretty much deserted apart from other parkrunners. Oh and Trentham Garden fairies, but both fellow parkrunners and Trentham Fairies are most delightful companions. I have to say though, I was sufficiently impressed by it all to think it would be well worth the entrance ticket price, there is much to see, do and appreciate. A happy place. Changing through the seasons too, I think you can get loyalty passes too if you are a local. Certainly there seemed to be a lot of regular dog walkers making the most of the place as we parkrunners assembled. There were a few raised eyebrows at the fancy dress, but all was good natured, the main reaction being laughter and a desire to take a selfie, it was companionable space sharing. Hurrah!
At the rear we were, the fun party at the back, and boy did we have fun. So much adventuring. The course is gorgeous. As a one lapper the bulk of the field weaved out of sight pretty early on, but that just meant we had a sense of having the whole place to ourselves to explore and it was amazing. The skies cleared and we gazed in wonder at the unfolding marvels, of which there were many.
As tailwalker it was my job to be the last finisher, and there was a fellow tailwalker to take on 50% of this responsibilitiy and a parkwalker too. We also had a bouncing tree hugger who is 99% border collie on speed, so that, along with the rather independent cow was quite a lot to try to keep in order. The thing is there were a lot of exceedingly magnificent trees, ALL of which needed to be fully appreciated, oohed and aahed over and/or hugged; and a great many distractions in the form of things to be photographed; spring flowers to be appreciated; fairies to be whooped over; marshals to be thanked; water birds to be identified; benches to be sat upon; mini tractors to be ridden; selfies to be taken; cattle grids to be negotiated; dogs to be petted; other park users to be chatted to. So many things to do at a parkrun! It’s a wonder we ever finished at all!
I honestly can’t quite remember the sequence in which marvels were revealed to us, so here are some highlights, in no particular order:
Heading out:
Whilst it is true that most of the field disappeared over the horizon pretty speedily, we party pack at the back quickly set about making our own entertainment. Not that parkrun isn’t adequate entertainment all on its own, but there is definitely added value in have twalking companions. We headed off by a lake side, and very quickly came across a dinky little miniature train track, and some coppery wavey things that were intriguing if somewhat inscrutable. Then there were trees to dally round and endless photos to take to capture the essence of the occasion.
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My personal favourite photo (which granted, does change quite a lot, I’m either indecisive or fickle or quite possibly both) is the one that makes us look like an ill thought through new band launch. Still, nothing wrong with a left field rock band offering. Nobody saw Gangnam style coming, and I am confident we have a greater diversity of appeal than that, excellent as it was. We do exude fun and know how to make our own entertainment, so all good. ‘The Bovine Beauties’ perhaps or ‘Cool with the Coos’? ‘The Merry Moon Jumpers’? ‘The Feisty Friesian Foursome’? Well, ok, we need to work on our name, and quite possibly our music content too, but everyone has to start somewhere, these are details don’t knock it. We are surely insta ready, and that is the important thing.
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Lovely as the route was, it was not without its challenges! Fortunately, cheery marshals were on hand to help us navigate the most testing of trails. Case in point. The forge! A proper water way, with a little bridge to one side. We wanted to forge the water course but having been explicitly instructed not to, behaved tolerably well. We did stop though to ooh and aah at the water cascading down the steps, to chit chat with the marshal and to examine the elfin figure which I thought looked somewhat Gollum-like or possibly Dobby the house elfesque. Nice punting skills though. The cow may have strayed back into the water, but did use the little bridge first. Phew.
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Spring flowers:
Our merry way took us to all sorts of delights. Venturing darn sarth from oop norf I was astonished at the flowers. Highlights included snowdrops, cyclamen, witch hazel, daphne, catkins, moss and the amazing sculptural dandelion clocks and metallic flowers. I abandoned any attempt at photographing en route today, out sourcing this to my energetic, photogenic and photographically talented parkrun companions. Good call I think you can agree:
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The witch hazel grove was especially wondrous. The parkrun route takes you right through an area of tall trees underplanted with a mass of brightly flowering witch hazel with the waft of a particularly fragrant single daphne tree cocooning us in it’s heady aroma. This route through the gardens is amazing, what’s more, it would be amazing in different ways at different times of the year and different times of day, I don’t think you’d ever get bored. We saw loads, but missed loads too, and those who actually ran round the parkrun, well, what were they thinking? They’d have properly missed out on so many excellent, exceptional and extraordinary things! Fortunately, they can come back and do it all again another Saturday if they wish, and I hope they will!
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Trees – so many magnificent trees!
Trees to hug, trees to gaze at, trees to sniff around and quite possibly pee up (if you are a dog or direly desperate) trees sufficient for mini forest bathing and maxi green wild swimming. Trees are brilliant though aren’t they. Granted, it wasn’t possible to hug each and every one, but maybe you could over time if you went back every week. Some of the trees had trunks so vast it would take a whole field of parkrunners to encircle them. Trees are the best. These trees you could not look on or up without being both calmed and awed. They brought perspective to the universe which was much needed and very nice to behold.
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There was even a tree sculptured into a family of otters, which was extra lovely because apparently the gardens are very popular with actual otters. If there is one thing lovelier than a sculpture of otters it has to be the prospect of actual otters being somewhere in the vicinity. The sculpture is diving otters apparently and was made from a cedar tree by Andy Burgess. Rewilding is important to the gardens, and I have it on blog authority that they plan to introduce beavers. BEAVERS! That is properly exciting.
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‘Plans have been submitted to house up to four Eurasian Beavers from Spring 2023 – In a bid to help re-introduce the species, Trentham is working alongside ecologist, reintroduction specialist and author, Derek Gow, who founded the Derek Gow Consultancy formed of a team of specialists in conservations, surveys, breeding and mitigation. The project is also being supported by the Staffordshire Wildlife Trust, The Beaver Trust, The Environment Agency and The Canal & River Trust.
Beavers are often referred to as ‘ecosystem engineers’ and their role in combating climate change is increasingly being recognised, as they make changes to their habitats, such as coppicing trees and shrub species, damming smaller water courses, and digging ‘beaver canal’ systems. These activities create diverse and dynamic wetlands – helping to connect floodplains with their watercourses once again. In turn, these wetlands can bring enormous benefits to other species, such as otters, water shrews, water voles, birds, invertebrates and breeding fish, as well as sequestering carbon.
In order to contain the beaver population and satisfy the controls required to try and save the species, while supporting the local agricultural community, Trentham has submitted plans for an enclosure around the perimeter of the lake and wider Gardens to keep the beavers safe and prevent them from escaping.
Alastair Budd, Senior Director of Trentham, comments: “Beavers are one of the most important species in our habitats and we want to help visitors to understand why this once extinct UK native should be back in the English countryside helping to restore our ecosystems and mitigate the impact of climate change.‘
OMG that’s so exciting. Beavers, beavering.
Even in this briefest of encounters with the grounds my heart nearly exploded with joy at all the wildlife habitats and sympathetic landscaping. A place of wonder indeed. Just look! Oh, and there were beetle sculptures too, love a giant stag beetle. My eyes were popping out my head there was just so much to see!
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This was just going to be grand! Off with a parkrun purpose. What larks eh, what larks!
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Fairies, so many fairies!
As we wended our way around, we were supervised by a flight of fairies guiding our way. They were everywhere. Some delegate, some fair(l)y feisty, some downright contortionists but all a delight, and many we attempted to emulate, with varying degrees of success. Not being rude, but not sure the cow has entirely the most favourable of physiques for re-enacting the gossamer winged poses, but straight As for effort, obvs. Do you know what gossamer is by the way? I just looked it up, and although used generally to signify light wispy fabrics, it’s actually the silken threads made by spiders. Isn’t that amazing? Rhetorical question, yes it is! Gossamer is a word I’m going to try to use more often, that and petrichor, though it smells not so much of wet earth round here as end of times flooding but even so. Some words and lovely and evocative. Some are not. Gusset for example? Does nothing for me beyond generating shudders. I think this is in part because tights are so poorly designed a drooping gusset is a traumatising thing, thank goodness for snag tights which I’ve only just discovered, game changer. You do realise if Superman had been able to access those, he wouldn’t have had to wear his pants on the outside of his tights. It would have changed history, or his story at least. Anyway, enough of my underwear fails, on to the fairy shots. Fairy good they are too! I don’t know if fairies have to worry about knickers particularly, or tights. #livingthedream
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As we followed the route and met up with marshals along the way like characters in the Pilgrim’s Progress or Chicken Licken if you prefer, it dawned on us this was a one loop course so we might as well gather up the course direction arrows as we passed by. It was a further enrichment activity for us. Joyously, we also seemed to gather marshals at various points too, so in a more the merrier sort of band we sashayed on around.
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The cows did a fair bit of cavorting, and one at least even some somewhat coquettish posing on the woodland chaise. In her defence, it’s quite hard to walk on by such a seductive item without laying out on it and declaring ‘paint me like your French vache’ anyone would have done the same, a great many probably have before.
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It is hilarious when you stop to think what goes on at the back of a parkrun. It is worth checking out the tiktok link for a parkruncam view. Penguincam has nothing on us. I think one of the many best things ever about parkrun, is that it gives you permission to play and play we did, whether that was hiding in the magic mushrooms despite there really not being very mush room at all, or checking out the mini tractors, or tree hugging or statue posing or just generally screaming with shared hilarity we had such a blast. Then we had to photograph the running duck and the robin and the sheep, so many distractions. Robins appear when loved ones are near, so that was extra special. I’m sure it wasn’t just hungry and opportunistic on the off chance. parkrun really is so very much more than a run in a park, it may have always have been about the coffee, but I think it is also very much about the shared experience of liberating your inner child. Everyone should have one! Were they sheep though, or were they cattle, not smol, but far far away?
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The next serious obstacle to negotiate, was the actual cattle grid. A friendly marshal was on hand to help negotiate this challenge. We had to keep to the left, and could use the pre laid covers to help cross the grid without incident. There was though a kissing gate which clearly also needed to be explored and experimented with. In fact, you traverse the cattle grid, and then loop round and come back over it all over again. Double the excitement!
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As if this wasn’t giddying enough, we were also joined at some point on this circuit by a bicycling marshal on the Trentham Gardens parkrun official bike. Isn’t that special and splendid, and what a cool role. I think officially he was a course sweeper, but I prefer to think of him as our personal outrider for the final section of the course. It was nice to have cheery company along for the ride. Well, he was riding and we were parkrun pootling but all good. Though there were fine hares to be seen, it isn’t the only way to approach a parkrun it seems, though hares are cool too! Look at this one.
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More Formally:
Juxtaposed with the managed wild areas were more formal gardens, Italian ones I think. This just gave another whole area to explore and discover, and came towards the end of the parkrun route.
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We paused to take in a fine statue with a figure holding a detached head aloft, I thought this was to serve as a firm warning for wannabe funnel duckers as they were nearing the finish, but turns out, it was a statue of Perseus with the head of medusa. Further more, accordingtogooglesoitmustbetrue ‘Sculptor: Benvenuto Cellini. This is a true copy of an original 16th century statue by the Italian master Benvenuto Cellini. The Trentham Estate’s statue of “Perseus with the head of Medusa” was made on the order of the 2nd Duke of Sutherland around 1840. It is the only copy of Cellini’s masterpiece, and demonstrates like no other work in this country the 19th century’s fascination with the Florentine High Renaissance‘. I liked our idea better, but either way, we took the opportunity to do our own re-enactment with uncanny realism if slightly more outer garments. Well it was somewhat nippy out, even though we dodged a lot of rain. I don’t know if it’s practical for us to embark on a career change as living statues or indeed historical re-enactment professionals, but the seed of an idea was certainly planted. Why not endeavour to re-wild our own lives with the same vigour we long to rewild our natural habitats? Quite so. I rest my case.
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and as if we hadn’t already had an embarrassment of riches, other parkrunners who had now concluded their runs came back to join us, so our guard of honour gathered strength and hard though it is to imagine, the atmosphere got even more intoxicatingly glorious, parkrun people are The Best. The weather was beginning to break, but the marshals remained cheery outwardly irrespective of degree of damp and cold that was penetrating them at this point.
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‘Suddenly’ we rounded the corner and there ahead, somewhat rain soaked, but still smiling, was a fully set up and serviced finish funnel. Hurrah! We enjoyed the same finish as everyone else, tunnel up, marshals in situ, hurrah!
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They really had been waiting til the cows came home, and that’s grand!
And our compatriots had saved us celebratory cake. I managed to consume half of one before being distracted resulting in the calamity of having a cupcake down emergency. But it worked in my favour in that I was given a reissue so it ended up being a 1 1/2 cupcake scenario instead of none. All’s well that ends well as the saying goes. parkrun cake is a serious business, no wonder Trentham Gardens parkrun very smartly arranged for a cake marshal on this occasion, a beautifully accessorised one at that. Which parkrun doesn’t need – or at least want – a waterproof cake carrier. Versatile bit of kit too by the look of things! Red Ted is also in need of some post parkrun ablutions, but all in good time, I’m sure he’ll scrub up well when the time comes.
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Even after all that, they managed to persuade us to pose – with some reluctance obvs, what with being so camera shy and all – for a group shot, well it would have been rude not to!
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Incidentally, as well as being a parkrun with all the things, it is also possibly one of the most comprehensively documented parkruns in history – and that includes Bushy parkrun birthday celebrations past and still to come! So much so this blog post is quite possibly entirely redundant, but then I’ve never let that stop me recording my thoughts before so why stop now?* Also, triangulation is a thing right? Always important to see things from different angles just to make sure all the accounts hold up. Spoiler alert, they do!
Case in point, a brilliant run report, that somehow distilled down all that loveliness into an excellent summary that exudes the loveliness of the day.
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And then we have the tiktok of the event which actually really and truly made me laugh out loud. I’d never really seen the point of tiktok before, having only recently come to first trust an now embrace electric blankets but now I believe I may be a convert! Check this out, and if it doesn’t make you smile at the very least, well you have a heart of stone and I pity you. Yes, in a really patronising and insincere way too!
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Finally, parkrun concluded, we were escorted off the grounds and through two lots of gates that were carefully locked behind us
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and to the rotisserie. This is the cafe of choice for the volunteer team and we were warmly invited to join them. The good news about this cafe is that it does do veggie and vegan options and has a huge back room where we did a parkrun takeover and basically had a pop up parkrun party. The staff and venue took all this in their stride. The less good news is that you have to run the proverbial gauntlet of roasting chicken carcasses to get there and it did smell of cooked meat which was a bit overwhelming. Even so though, a great choice and we had a fund time catching up with one another, sharing parkrun tales and planning new adventures. The core team head scratched over the results, and there was much jocular hilarity with some excellent post parkrun parkfaffery. We excelled even ourselves in our fun times.
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It was just lovely, practically perfect in every way. It was a parkrun punt to head out so far, but it was worth it. A little inoculation of joy to carry us through the week ahead, and affirming to meet people in real life when for such a long time they were just people who in lockdown lived in my laptop. It’s scary meeting people sometimes, but it turns out, most of them are lovely, and parkrun people are the loveliest of all. And as for the craic at the back of the pack. Best of all things. Thank you tail walkers, parkwalkers cow companions, walking and talking companions all. We did good!
But wait! There’s more.
As if it hadn’t been glorious enough what with having a parkrun, and adventures, and wildlife, an statues, and playing statues, and meeting friends, and fancy dress and all the things, as well as memories and pictures to take away I got an actual hug to keep with me! Two of our number, the cow and the tree hugger if you must know, had in a very literal labour of love, constructed some little yellow and gold hearts, each placed in a little bag of loveliness along with a mini pack of love hearts and on the back of the golden heart a hand written note ‘Always with me now, pocket hug’. Isn’t that just perfection. Because we can all have a wobble and having a hug in your pocket to squeeze in times of need is reassuring beyond your wildest imaginings. I may even laminate mine, to give it a little extra durability. It was the perfect end to the perfect parkrun morning. Sigh. Honestly though, what did we do for our physical and mental health and how did we connect with new people across the land before parkrun. I have no idea.
But now we can, and we do, and I wish you may always have if not a pocket hug of your very own, then at least a positive parkrun memory of your own or this virtual hug from me (extra covid compliant of course) to help you push on through. The world can seem a scary and lonely place at times, but we can still carve out pockets of kindness and there are more good people in the world than not. Also, we live in a land where we can still have parkrun play and over familiar squirrels and dance in the rain. So hope persists. Hang on in there.
There are surely enough yellow hearts and golden hugs for all. Purple hearts are something altogether different, best just say no to them in tablet form to be honest, the parkrun high is better altogether.. Mooving experience that it is.
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Oh, and if this hasn’t made you feel all lovely at the thought of parkrun, check out this parkrunner who has become the first woman to complete 24 parkruns in 24 hours. She knows a good thing when she finds it and can’t get enough of it down under it seems. Yay for Holly Ranson! Bet she still managed to complete her parkrun challenge in less time than it will take you to read this. Sorry about that. But like I said, Trentham Gardens parkrun has all the things!
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As always, I feel I should mention, you can extend your parkrun contemplations for longer by reading all my parkrun related posts here. Or not. It’s up to you. You’ll need to scroll down for older entries though. Also, you might just like to lean back in a comfy chair, close your eyes, and dreamily recall your happiest parkrun moments. Bet there are loads.
Thanks though for keeping me company during my reflections from today. You’re The Best. May you always have a hug in your pocket to squeeze for comfort when in times of need, even if it is a virtual one. Thank you cow and cowell celebrants for bringing us all together, was great for us all to be with parkrun people in the here and now. Yay for my EWFM too, we are on a parkrun togetherness roll. #livingtheparkrundream
Still here? I won’t lie, I’m astonished! Thanks though.
Be happy. 🙂
**Clarifications and corrections**
Just one teensy tiny point of clarification. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about, nothing at all, but in the interests of full and fair disclosure, I feel there is one little thing I should mention. To one side of the course is a MOOSIVE, seriously mahoosive fence, with razor wire, and probably high voltage cabling etc. It’s slightly tucked to one side, and the distracting delights that abound may mean you pass by it without properly noticing it. However, once seen, it cannot be unseen. I think it is because as part of their rewilding initiative Trentham Gardens are doing a full on Jurassic Park kind of thing behind those fences. I’m sure it’s absolutely nothing to worry about, I mean, what could possibly go wrong, but felt a quick heads up was only fair. No wonder our otherwise energetic explorer is peering round this particular tree with a certain degree of tree-pedation. Probably fine though. Really…
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Isn’t it just great when nature finds a way!
*Rhetorical question, please don’t feel the need to enlighten me.
Digested read: long story short, parkrun tourism took me to Queen Elizabeth parkrun in pursuit of my Q. Sub-optimum running conditions, but superb muddy fun and friendly too. Nearly didn’t happen, but then it did! Hurrah!
Undigested read:
For the short story made long, read onwards, but it’s not compulsory – or you could just idly scroll down to have a look at the photos in between eating crisps on the sofa wearing a walrus onesie**. You choose…
I will say this though, had a filthy good time. Mud, mud, glorious mud, what’s not to like? Nothing quite like it indeed!
I’m half heartedly pursuing my alphabet challenge. For a long time it seemed pretty unattainable, but now I’m down to just the last few, and finding myself down south again this weekend, it didn’t seem too much of a stretch to add on another hours driving, oh, and an overnight stay in a Premier Inn and get my weary carcass round Queen Elizabeth parkrun. I was a bit nervous booking ahead, as the recent stormy weathers has led to many down south cancellations, but then when I looked at the Queen Elizabeth parkrun Facebook page I saw this event:
Leap Day Event – Fancy dress optional
Where they helpfully explain:
This year is a leap year and February 29, 2020 falls on a Saturday, parkrun day !! The next time this will happen will not be until the year 2043, so the QE core team thought we would make this February 29, a special occasion and have a fancy dress event
So you could dress up as a frog, wear only green clothing, run in your frog wellington boots or an outfit that represents one of the many sporting events also happening this year the Tokyo Summer Olympics, Euro 2020 Football tournament, or the ICC World T20 Cricket tournament.
So two things, fancy dress – albeit they say it’s not compulsory, and if they are having a special event, then I’m guessing they’ll do everything they can to make sure it goes ahead. I mean, you can postpone a parkrun birthday run, or even an inaugural, heartbreaking as that would be, but you can’t arrange for another 29th February to come around again on a Saturday for way more years than I can count.
In case it’s escaped you’ve not done the number crunching yourself, just to be clear, leap years happen every four years. I’m actually going to credit you with already knowing that. However, did you know the last leap day (i.e. 29th February) fell on monday 29 February 2016? A monday! I ask you, what good is that to a parkrunner? We are only interested in dates that fall on a Saturday parkrunday. This year (hurrah) it does. This means there is a total of 5 parkruns in February for the first time in parkrun history. (Wowsers). The last time 29th February fell on a Saturday was in 1992 – pre parkrun. I know, hard to imagine there was ever a world without it yet ’tis true! No-one in history has ever run a parkrun on leap day, so if you were part of the parkrun army that did so on the 29th February this year, you are a trailblazer in parkrun history. My doesn’t that feel good!
What’s more there won’t be another chance to run parkrun on leap year day until 2048! That’s ages and ages away, a literal lifetime for some, and if I’m still going then I’ll be hopping round in my frog outfit at the ripe old age of 83, and as I don’t really want to live that long because apart from anything else I’ll be in utter penury due to lack of adequate pension provision, that means for me, this is to be a once in a lifetime opportunity, because never before has the leap day falling on parkrun day. HOW EXCITING! My, I’d better make it a good one. Capturing a Q on a themed parkrun event would be just the job! That AND fancy dress all round, the intoxicating cocktail of excitement generated by these two opportunities appearing simultaneously was a seductive possibility. Indeed, together they were the clincher, I’d be hopping off down to there then. Hurrah!
Alas dear reader, when I came to check the forecasts a few days before it boded badly. Gusts of 47mph and I know that the Queen Elizabeth Country Park close if the winds pick up above about 35 mph. A Sheffield friend of mine – Smiley Selfie Queen – got caught out by just that when she was down there on 15th February. I naively thought it would be pretty unlucky/ unlikely to get such inclement weather again, hence had confidently booked and pre-paid for my hotel in advance. Thus, I’d be there anyway, Q parkrun or no Q parkrun. Undeterred, I went in search of a back up plan.
The handy ‘nearby parkruns’ information on the Queen Elizabeth parkrun home page gave me an idea of which were in reach, and then I used their historic results listings to see if they’d had to cancel a fortnight ago as I figured that would be a reasonable indication of whether or not they’d be vulnerable to inclement weather again. It was with a bit of a heavy heart I scrolled through the options, until dear reader, I lighted on Lee on the Solent parkrun. Not only was it looking like a goer, with a running club takeover but they were have a 250th number event; they have a super hero fancy dress theme. I sort of assumed in the circumstances if I should find myself a refugee from QE’s frog-themed event then Lee on the Solent parkrun would most likely be both accommodating and understanding. Besides, I could probably blag it that there is a frog superhero out there somewhere. There must be, or am I thinking of ninja turtles? Anyway, sounded good.
STOP PRESS – O.M.G. there is a frog superhero apparently! Admittedly one I’d never heard of, though I suppose it is just conceivable I am not that particular superheroes target audience. Anyways, googlesearch told me that:
Frog-Man is a well-meaning but often bungling superhero in the Marvel Universe and is the son of the villain Leap-Frog***.
Origin
Eugene Patilio was the son of the supervillain Leap-Frog, who had since reformed and retired. Eugene, deciding to clean up the family name decided to use his father’s old superhero suit to fight crime as Frog-Man
ok, maybe not a superhero to set hearts a-beating, but that’s 100% close enough for me. Things are looking up! I can totally blag this and will be a natural with my somewhat rotund form being an asset in the role! This was meant to be! I knew my frog costume would turn out to be endlessly versatile and become a wardrobe classic. Result!
Even better, when I posted sheepishly on the Lee on the Solent parkrun Facebook page asking if they expected to be on, I got an almost telepathically instantaneous reply. Yep, weather was even worse last week according to forecast and they cracked on. Plus, there might even be cake! Maybe the quest for a Q is over-rated, this wasn’t going to be second best at all. What’s more, judging by the very fine profile picture (thanks to Paul Thompson) it looks like the sun always shines there anyway, or your money back, guaranteed. Excellent.
There’s even a cool aerial video of the parkrun back in 2016 – sun was shining then too. Brilliant! Super excited now. Might even make this the A- plan!
Wouldn’t be a Q though…. oh the tyranny of too much choice eh?
I decided to throw my parkrun destination into the hands of fate. I mean in an uncharacteristic burst of forward planning I had booked the hotel nearest to the Queen Elizabeth parkrun on a non-transferable basis (aargh), so that would remain my first choice, but if it were to be cancelled Lee on the Solent parkrun was sounded like a fab option too. Maybe one to come back for…
Oh, I was staying at the Premier Inn Horndean if you are interested. Actually, that’s not strictly true, there is a farm that looks fab if you are camping or camper vanning Upper Parsonage Farm might be worth checking out. I liked the look of the shepherds hut – Linda Snell would be impressed I’m sure – but you needed to bring your own linen, and that’s too much faff for me as I’m heading on elsewhere afterwards. Still, you might like it. Have a looksie.
So, the night before the parkrun after, I had two options to weigh up in between paranoically refreshing the weather forecast. Lover-Lee-on-the-Solent parkrun or Queen Elizabeth. No wrong decision, but I was twitchy. This was the forecast dear reader:
I was fully prepared to activate my back up plan, but then again, all this way to get a Q, would be a shame if it didn’t come to pass.
The course is in Queen Elizabeth Country Park, Horndean. …
The course is undulating and is run on a mix of compacted gravel paths, grass and forest trails. The course consists of two loops. From the start (green pin), head up a short incline on the gravel path. After approximately 200m take a right turn onto a grassy downhill section. This is quite steep at the bottom so caution is advised. At the bottom of the hill take a right turn and follow the perimeter trail back to the start at approximately 2km. This completes the first loop.
The second loop ascends the initial incline up the gravel path. This time instead of taking the right turn from loop one. Continue on the gravel path for approximately 1km. At the crossroad adjacent to Holt Pond take a right turn onto a downhill trail. At the bottom of the hill turn right on to the perimeter path. This will join the end section of loop one and take you back to the finish funnel (red pin).
Oooh, it’s in a country park! Queen Elizabeth Country Park to be precise. That sounds grand, not only worth visiting for an elusive Q then. Also, and I’m hoping that unlike at Bradford parkrun this won’t be delivering false hope, the information on facilities declares that ‘Toilets are open from 8am‘. I’m properly excited now. You have to pay for parking though, which I don’t begrudge at all, but can’t see how much it is or how you pay. I’ll worry about that when I get there. Actually, no I won’t I’ll look now. … ok, bit of googling later, looks like you pay on exit, and you can use a card or cash, but if you use cash you won’t get change. Fair dos. Good to know. Venue looks amazing. This is going to be grand.
The course looks like this:
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Ooh, lap two looks a lot bigger than lap one. Nice though, not too much repetition. This is going to be fab – if it happens. Oh no, it might not happen, weather forecast is properly shite! Oh well. Que sera…
and then parkrun day finally dawned…
I woke early, and stared out of the window. It didn’t look too windy. I’m the last person in the world with no smartphone and I was a bit twitchy about what to do, as at some point I’d have to tear myself away from the weak but just about detectable wi-fi of the hotel, and from thereon-in I’d be on my own. No updates. Like those disaster movies where the central characters have to establish early on why they don’t just get their mobile phones out for help, information or a google map to guide them on their way. I’d have to survive on nothing but my wits and my parkrun locating instincts. My only hope was that I’d have left a paper bag in the car somewhere so I’d have something to breathe into in case of emergencies…
Lee on the Solent parkrun was much further away, so I’d need to get a wiggle on to get there, but Queen Elizabeth parkrun had promised to post either way as early as possible. In the end, I decided to go straight there, but early, as it would be obvious if the park was closed and I could just turn around and head back to Lee on the Solent. OK, a plan.
I checked out of the hotel, where the receptionist took my key pass off me without passing comment about my green tutu. She’s probably learned from years of experience that sometimes it’s best just not to enquire. In the car I peered through the windscreen to establish current weather conditions. My windscreen is almost as good at identifying current weather conditions as the met office or seaweed hung in a porch, I was thinking it was going to be wet…
Fortunately I had windscreen wipers, albeit slightly squeaky ones.
I got to the park after an angsty satnav journey which appeared to take me to a random stretch of dual carriageway. Eventually, big brown signs headed me towards the country park. You arrive and go through barriers, which make you wait like a conscientious but slightly bored dog humouring his or her deluded owner. You know, the ones who will insist on doing random and pointless obedience training drills with a less than enthusiastic hound, as some sort mindless power game, in this case ‘sit’ and ‘wait’. I didn’t even get a treat for doing so. Not so much as a veggie jelly bean, or even an actual bean, I’d have settled for that, breakfastless as I was. I learned later, that this is because big brother photographs your number plate as you go in, but takes a little while to do so. Presumably because he is lining up the perfect composition, or getting your number plates best side, i.e. the one which has the numbers on – so when you exit the car park paying and entering your number plate in the magic machine, it knows who you are and how long you’ve been a-lingering. Clever, but ever so slightly unnerving too.
Now I’ve been, it was fairly obvious where to go – past the visitors centre, and to the next car park along, the gravel one. But I am of an easily confused disposition, so therefore got confused. I sort of assumed the barriers wouldn’t have let me in if the country park was shut, but it was very, very quiet. Well, I suppose I was extra early too. I finally spotted some people walking and asked them hopefully if they knew anything about parkrun. They had no idea. Seemingly, they were there to lay tracks for a film crew. Oooh, how exciting, maybe I’d get to be an extra, I expect they are in need of a super-sized frog wearing a tutu in at least one of the background shots! No? Oh well, worth a try, anyway I’d rather do parkrun…
Then a bit further along, I espied a familiar assortment of parkrun related paraphernalia and signs being heave hoed along by a high vis hero. I paused to check with the person in charge of this bounty and learned, yes, parkrun was indeed on! Better yet, I was in the right place! Hurrah! There was the little matter of being about an hour early but I hate being late, this way I’d be able to fit in a precautionary pee for sure, probably several, shame I’d not had any breakfast. Premier Inn is fine, but super basic. I did have a coffee in my room, but hadn’t thought to bring so much as a banana with me for pre-parkrun sustenance. Fortunately, I had coincidentally brought along with me a quite extensive layer of subcutaneous fat, so that was both my carb reserves and my heat generation systems sorted. Excellent!
By the time I’d parked, some helpful signs were already up. The venue is gorgeous too. Mature trees, huge ones, everywhere. And lots of mud. I like mud! I’m a slow runner anyway so I’m not going for speed, I’m just in search of a micro-adventure, mud ticks that box gloriously, and the fact it provides an excuse for a slow and steady romp round is but a welcome bonus. Weirdly, others don’t feel quite the same, this I don’t understand, if you want predictable terrain, there are always treadmills, but where’s the fun in that?
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Off for my precautionary pee. It was a shortish 5 minute stroll back to the visitors centre. There was a single, unisex disabled toilet open, so I nipped in there. It was deserted as I approached, but as I emerged, there was a little orderly queue of other parkrunners all standing directly outside like a pop-up guard of honour. I felt they ought to have applauded me as I exited really. It was slightly alarming though, as I hadn’t realised they were there. On reflection though, this was just as well, since I have a bashful bladder, and the thought of a trio of parkrun tourists – however empathetic and friendly – outside potentially listening would have entirely negated the positive provision of precautionary pee facilities. I left them to it, hoping I didn’t have toilet paper stuck to the sole of my shoe or anything similar…
Back to the carpark. There weren’t many people around, I was in two minds about my fancy dress, I’d not seen anyone else wearing anything green, let along amphibian themed – yet. Then again, they did say it was fancy dress, and to be honest, I’m not really expecting my frog outfit to become a wardrobe classic, so really I just needed to brazen it out. Not very likely to be passing this way again, and anyway, the advantage of the head attire was that I’d not be recognisable in any other context, it’ll be fine… what’s the worst…
I headed up the hill, following the signs to the start. A little assembly of core volunteers had already gathered. Couldn’t help noticing a distinct absence of green as I approached.
What was lacking in amphibian costumery, was compensated for by the friendliness of the welcome, as the small, but perfectly formed team greeted me. I outed myself as being a bit thrown by the lack of others in fancy dress, but was doubly comforted. Firstly, because the Run Director, had in fact come along with a frog companion, which was most apt, and secondly by the cheery reassurance of two self-identifying ‘grumpy old gits’ (their words, not mine, I’d have said something like ‘convivial silver foxes’, if only to be polite… one of whom said well ‘of course we wouldn’t but that’s because we are grumpy old men, I’m sure others will, well there’s always someone anyway‘. Ah, I was wondering if by extension of that logic, that ‘always one’ might possibly be me. No worries, ice was broken, and it was all friendly, and I was here now, and the frog outfit was staying, too late to squash it back in the jiffy bag and despatch back to the ebay seller from whence it came now. Anyway, grumpy or otherwise, I couldn’t help noticing one had a green beanie hat and the other green shoes, so they were practically embracing the theme really, just with a slightly more subtle and tastefully understated nod, that’d do! They were probably wearing frog themed speedos underneath. I didn’t ask, so can truthfully report they passed no comment on the matter, which we all know means they definitely were!
Time to pose for some pre-parkrun photos. I was too embarrassed to ask the RD if the ‘Queen Elizabeth’ on her high vis was because this was our monarch doing her bit incognito but with her name discretely embroidered on the tabard to assist her personal protection officers (the cunningly disguised grumpy old men for sure) in identifying her from afar. Or whether it was bespoke for the parkrun venue. I think we all know though. I wasn’t too embarrassed to ask to pose for a photo though. Have to document those memories somehow!
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Nice frog companion she had with her. I like to think it’s an emotional support animal she has with her at all times, and her claim this was just a children’s bath mitt she’d retrieved from the bathroom in a pre-parkrun panic in an effort to show willing re the leap-day theme was just a quick thinking tale intended to put us off the scent.
This was going to be great. Sorry Lee on the Solent, I’m sure you had an ace morning too, and I will come back to see you one day, but for now I was really excited by the route to come.
The location is absolutely gorgeous. Weirdly, despite the appalling forecast, the air was still, and although it was distinctly wet underfoot, it wasn’t actually raining either. Huge trees lined the route, and someone explained the course to me. It was going to involve running up a hill and a section that was a bit muddy because of forestry vehicles doing track work. That’s ok, I’m used to mud.
I mentioned about not being sure if the event was on, and having spoken to the film crew support earlier. I learned two things. Firstly, the the park authorities are pretty good about trying to facilitate parkrun and have on occasion said ‘do it, but don’t hang around afterwards’ so they can close afterwards if necessary. I also learned from the RD, that on at least one previous occasion, another film was being made that featured zombie roman centurions! The parkrun was potentially in the back of shot, and so negotiations took place to ensure lycra clad puffing parkrunners, or hi-vis wearing marshals didn’t mess with their continuity. Shame, that would have been a sight worth seeing. A bit of gentle googling has led me to learn this was a Canadian company ‘perfect storms productions‘ back in 2012, but they are committed to historical accuracy, and were recreating the Battle of Teutoburg Forest which took place in Germany in AD9. Not gonna lie, this does rather make me question the ‘zombie centurions’ angle, but then again, I wasn’t there, either for the 2012 filming or the Teutoburg Forest original battle, so might be true? Also, the country park has been used for other film locations, including at least one Dr Who episode, so maybe it’s constantly populated with zombie roman centurions, and they occur more commonly in film than I had previously appreciated… Maybe it’s like pokemons, they are everywhere, but not everyone can see them… How else can you explain how I omitted to notice this:
I rest my case.
I went for a little bit of an explore, up towards the start, yep, that would be an upward flat section, and to check out some of the lovely trees.
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I kept the assembly area under surveillance, in the hop that others in fancy dress might yet still appear. It was a colourful gathering. One person did come sporting an American footballer outfit without explanation, but I didn’t get a chance to talk to him or take his picture so we’ll never know if he was dressed in homage to the Louisiana Leapers say, or if he just always dresses like that. Still, man of mystery, whosoever you were, your efforts were noted, and appreciated too.
Actually, **STOP PRESS** mystery solved. I only got as far as ‘frog fancy dress’ on the official event announcement, but now I’ve read it in full I see there is a catch all or ‘outfit that represents one of the many sporting events also happening this year the Tokyo Summer Olympics, Euro 2020 Football tournament, or the ICC World T20 Cricket tournament‘, so it seems not only was I not the only one to read the memo, there was another who actually read it in its entirety. Whoever you are, I salute you! Sorry we didn’t get to team up! You are part of QE history too now. A legend in your own time. Though secretly, I was rather hoping it is your regular parkrun outfit of choice…
Amongst those gathering were fellow tourists here for the Q, but giving the cue for more photo opps.
I struck up conversation with a few people asking if they were local or visitors. Most had come a-touristing. One commented ‘oh god no!’ in response to my innocently posed question ‘so is this your local parkrun then? Adding… ‘If this was my local parkrun I’d have to move house!’ I think this was a reflection on the terrain not the welcome by the way. I guess some love the tarmac, whilst others like the call of the wild and the giddying possibility of seeing a zombie centurion on the way round, or at least a gruffalo… Here are some of us milling and chilling and pre-parkrun faffing:
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So after pre parkrun parkfaffing, there was a call to order and the first timers’ briefing. There were a fair few of us. ‘Before I start, I have to ask, why the frog?’ Oh, guess no-one else got the memo then. ‘Erm, because it’s a leap day, and you are having a fancy dress green-themed/ frog parkrun‘ I croaked awkwardly. ‘Oh yes, that makes total sense‘. On to other business. ‘Who’s here for the Q?’ Pretty much every touristing hand went up. In fact, I don’t think there were any others present for any other reason.
It was quite a useful and comprehensive briefing. We warned there would be ‘MUD’ lots of mud, not a pb course I think is the generic euphemism. Yeah, whatever. Forestry vehicles had also contributed to path erosion so take care out there. I didn’t really concentrate too much on the route description as I just follow everyone else, and as for the mud – well, I was just so relieved and delighted parkrun was ON, that wasn’t a cause for concern beyond vague registering of its existence. All good. Here we are, attentively listening to our hi-vis hero explaining the idiosyncrasies of the route ahead…
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Next stop, run directors briefing, she found a useful bank from which to address us. Usual thanks and milestones and mudfest warnings. Also, the usual chit chat from the assembled company. It does my head in when people talk through run briefings, but it seems it’s a problem everywhere. I’m never sure of etiquette as a visitor, is it ok to ‘shush’ others when you are only passing through. Equally, at my home parkrun I wonder if ‘shushing’ seems officious, but really, it’s soooooooooooooo rude. I couldn’t even give paddington stares, because my eyes were on the top of my head due to my choice of attire, just had to accept couldn’t really hear what was going on. Got the gist, clapped when everyone else did, and hoped it wasn’t to endorse anything incompatible with my moral compass. Always a concern… Still, at least one person knelt in reverential homage to the RD at the front of the pack, so it wasn’t everyone being disrespectful.
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and then run briefing over, it was a mass troop up the hill to the start.
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then timers’ ready? Yep? Go!
And awf we went. Or more accurately, off went everyone else, I lingered a bit to take some pictures of the start, and then just slotted in behind.
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I’m not sure what the red thing is, some sort of fungus, but it just caught my eye near the start and deserved to be immortalised, and why not. I’ll look it up later and let you know what it is, it will be most educational! DONE! It’s a scarlet elf cap apparently, so that means some poor elf has been out in all that stormy weather capless. Oh well.
I was at the back, and I was going up a hill, and I suddenly twigged that I was still wearing my coat, and my frog head gear – which would have been an asset in torrential rain – was less advantageous today, and was rather acting as somewhat OTT thermal insulation. It was like I was running with my head in a pressure cooker. Well, like I imagine that would be, not actually tried that, and not sure if it would be possible even with a gas operated one, you’d have to find a way of carrying a canister round with you I suppose. Look just take the analogy with a bit of suspension of disbelief, the details aren’t important, the point I was trying to make, before you so rudely interrupted me with all these tedious questioning of the details, is simply that I was absolutely boiling, should have jettisoned the coat before. The ground underfoot was pretty solid, but I was way too hot, and it was more uphill than expected. A cheery marshal was on hand a bit further up, and waved us to our right,
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and down a hilariously slippery mud slide. Brilliant. No really it was, completely hilarious. It was properly muddy. Many parkrunners ahead of me ground to an almost halt, definitely walking, trying to pick their way through. I think some may not even have had trail shoes. I had mid-shoes inov-8 parkclaws which I love, but could have done with something much grippier. Some tried to stick to the sides a bit. I tried to do a bit of a zig zag to stay upright, but I’m not sure it helped. Ahead of me was a woman who acted as a sort of early warning system, giving out little involuntary shrieks each time her feet threatened to disappear beneath her. I didn’t witness any full on face plants or mud slides, but feel sure there must have been some. It wasn’t just the stickiness and slippery of the mud you had to contend with, but the downward gradient, it was quite a slope! It was great, my favourite sort of thing. I’m very slow at parkrun, so for me mud just offers enrichment rather than any further delay. Having said that, most parkrunners around me anyway, seemed to abandon any attempt at going for a time in favour of picking a route through and so it was bonding, friendly and mutually supportive.
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One fellow parkrunner even stopped to take my photo for me mid course. That’s a first, I thought it was just me that actually stopped to take pictures on the way round, so, this new development especially pleased me. Thank you parkrunner David Bailey much appreciated.
and on we went, each of us negotiating the terrain in our own individual way!
At the bottom of the hill, you turn right again, and go along quite a firm chalk path – sploshing through a few standing puddles, on a long straight haul back in the direction you started from.
Pretty flat, maybe a little down hill with a slight upward hump – you actually run past what will be the finish funnel, only they don’t put it out until after everyone has finished the first lap. The first lap is shorter, so presumably even the speediest of runners are not likely to be lapping anyone other than in pretty exceptional circumstances. This meant you got a few extra whoops and cheers as you speed on by, or drag yourself past, depending on your average pace. The whoops and cheers are equally loud for everyone by the way, it is only your speed that varies. Slower participants get more time being cheered at as it takes them longer to pass by, which is a boon.
and then down to the V-turn at the end, which is basically a U-turn, only more V-shaped if you haven’t worked it out for yourself. There is a marshal here to stop people careering off past the turning point and down the slope, and/ or to encourage people to stay upright as they turn back on themselves for the longer lap two. Well, I think that’s why the marshal was there. It could also be that this was the best possible vantage point for people face planting in the mud, which would be completely understandable. There should be some extra perks for marshals who are willing to give up their time to stand in the freezing cold, knee deep in mud to facilitate the parkrun for everyone else! I did notice there were rather a lot of spectators around here, I hesitate to use the term ambulance chasers but…
So ding dong, round two! Back up the hill, cheery marshal this time sending you straight on rather than back down the mud slide. The field had very much thinned out by now, speedier runners well ahead, and quite a few walkers behind for whatever reason. I was distracted by some of the scenery and signage along the way. Replica roman villa anyone? Add your own zombies.
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Realistically, I don’t know if I’ll make it back to this country park, I live in Sheffield, so it’s hardly on my doorstep, but I get the impression, there was loads to explore, with lots of bike trails and wildlife routes, it gave the sense of a well managed and interesting place. Yet another thing I love about parkrun tourism, is that it has taken me to all sorts of places I’d otherwise probably never have thought to visit.
As I was heaving myself round, contemplating how hot I was, and generally gazing about, a late arrival at the parkrun ball appeared! Well met my new friend! He had cycled over, and was late to the start, but had put a fair old sprint on to overtake the tailwalker. He was happy to pause and have a chit chat for a bit, which was really companionable, and another unusual occurrence. Generally speaking I cant talk and run so I normally don’t chat to other parkrunners, but as I was actually walking at this point, and he was happy to do likewise, it was grand. Plus, looks like we are following each other around future parkruns, I have Zamek w Malborku all booked up for the end of the month, and he is there the week before. He’d done loads of overseas and other parkruns, starting his parkrun journey as an accidental tourist, so it was cool to hear parkrun tales from afar. We carried on up the hill, until another marshal, at least I presume they were a marshal and not a decoy to send as astray, there was no obvious hi-vis but a familiar helpful disposition inspired confidence instead. Anyway, we were sent back down a muddy path to our right once again. Yay! My new best friend was happy to pose for obligatory mud shots before we parted way as he picked up some speed again, and I trotted and hopped along behind in my own elegant trajectory. ‘Elegant’ is a subjective concept I know, but where is the harm in a little bit of personal self-delusion? No constructive criticism or feedback required or welcomed on this occasion.
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So yep, it continued muddy, but honestly this was a joyful route. For them as hate mud, well, they are not going to love it, but I had a great time. It was yomping territory, and as I was wet up to not just my ankles, but practically my knickers, there was no advantage in picking your way round puddles, you just had to splosh through. Unusually, I was running alone, i.e. not being pursued by tailwalkers and not in sight of any runners ahead, and in no danger of being lapped as faster runners would have been way ahead of me at this point. For the first time in months I could have an unselfconscious scamper, in gorgeous surrounds, still air and inexplicably rain free. It really gave me my running mojo back. I’ve ground to a halt with running really, and as I’ve taken on more run reporting and photographing volunteering it’s ages since I’ve just done a parkrun for the joy of it. This reminded me of how I need to proactively carve out time for new running adventures. I live in the peak district for goodness sake, the possibilities are endless, and although the weather has been absolutely horrendous of late, this trot out reminded me that actually, running in mud and rain and yomping on trails is absolutely part of the whole glorious adventure. It just makes us more hardcore and makes us more likely to have the landscape to ourselves. Note to self, lace up, head out, take to the trails!
The final straight line back to the finish seemed to go very quickly. In next to no time I was in sight of the funnel, and the beaming smiles of high-vis heroes welcoming us home.
I lingered to cheer a few final finishers home – and check out a particularly cute canine who’d had a great lope round.
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My new best friend was waiting too, see, new parkruns are just full of parkrun friends you haven’t made yet!
Just time for a few final photos, thanks to the core team, and a quick lust over their all-terrain trolley for their parkrun kit:
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And that was that, parkrun wise it was a wrap!
I asked the RD if it was OK to share the photos and not only did she say yes it was, but I got a volunteering credit for doing so, result! I did warn her they were quantity rather than quality, but it’s the thought that counts yes?
I headed back to the car to pick up some cash and then made my way to the visitors centre for breakfast with my new parkrun buddy. We used the outside tap to wash our shoes of the worst of the mud, but that just had the effect of filling my trail shoes with slurry really. Oh well. Water is supposed to come out through the mesh fabric, but I suppose there are limits. The visitors centre had good selection of cakes and cooked breakfast. It was reasonable value, but coffee was a bit mediocre, I had a veggie breakfast which was generous in size but a bit on the hey-ho spectrum. Friendly service though, and impressive tolerance of muddy shoes. To be fair, their entire clientele would be there because they were yomping muddy trails so they are prepared for it.
There was a big pond outside the visitors centre, which I peered into at length in search of frogspawn, I couldn’t see any. Oh well.
We said our farewells and I made my way back to the carpark, waving a farewell at other departing parkrunners who’d come on their bikes.
I remembered to take a photo of the carpark this time, which might sound weird, but it’s actually a public service, so others coming in my wake know they have reached their final destination whatever their satnav may be saying to them to the contrary. The sun came out, and the weather was glorious. Aw, that was a lovely morning!
Finally, I went to the little wendy hut to pay for parking. You put in your number plate and it calculates it automatically. It was five quid! I thought that was steep, but I guess they must charge from 8.00 a.m then, and staying for breakfast would have pushed me into an all day rate. You pay with a card, well I did, maybe you can use cash, I’m not sure. The car parking was steeper than anticipated, and although I didn’t quite begrudge it, it made it one of the more expensive ones I’ve been to. Clearly better to bike it or walk it if you can, or forgo breakfast for a speedy exit … but where’s the fun in parkrun touristing if you do that.
So I got my Q, but that was the least important part of the fabulously, fun morning, albeit that is what took me there in the first place. Come for the Q, stay for the crack!
In conclusion, I really enjoyed this parkrun, it was small but perfectly formed, friendly, fabulous location, great facilities, and my you’d get fit if it was your local. So, thank you lovely QE parkrunners, core team, visitors and all, for the warm welcome to your wonderful venue. It’s a shame that it was only me that got the fancy dress memo, but I wouldn’t change anything all the same! I hope our parkrun paths cross again in the future, but in the meantime, many thanks for giving me a royally good run!
So date for the diary for 2048 people? All that fun all over again, and only 28 years to wait until we do…
or you could always rock up to a parkrun near you next parkrunday/saturday in the meantime. You choose!
Oh, and for my reader who likes to triangulate my accounts of parkrun for accuracy, there are not one, but TWO run reports from other participants at this weekend’s mudfest. This means for their 360th parkrun there is 360 degree coverage of the event. (See what I’ve done there? Genius!) One is from Katie Reynolds a runner from Fareham and the second from Nickie Sale a visitor from South Africa – and they both mention the mud, so you can be confident that was indeed an actual thing! Oh, and QE parkrun are a whizz with technology too, so they’ve uploaded my photos of the event here.
Thank you lovely Queen Elizabeth parkrun people! I had a royally good time.
🙂
oh, and 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. Your choice
*ok, leaping – ish
**other onesies are available, but I’m not sure why you’d need to bother with them…
***O.M.G! What could be more apt! A descendent of leap-frog for leap year!
Digested read: it was St Andrew’s Day, and it was parkrun day, the Venn diagram intersection therefore took me to Tring parkrun where they were having a themed, ‘bring a giraffe to parkrun day’. It was very nice indeed, thank you for asking. Frosty terrain but warm welcome. Also tea-cakes.
Undigested read:
It’s a long one, brace yourself…
Well, that was splendid. It’s the simplicity of parkrun which is particularly awesome. You get to rock up at the most spectacular of locations and be part of pop-up random wonderfulness in an infinite variety of manifestations. But today it was all about a kilted flashmob taking over the winter wonderland of Tring Park all in the name of St Andrew. Dear reader, I give you Tring parkrun. Epic.
Granted, I had a bit of insider info that gave me the nod that this was happening, but honestly, if you didn’t make it this year, then next year it could be you – there’s always room for a few more. Go awn, you know you want to!
Tring Kilted parkrun. Yes it is a thing. Has been for half a decade now, my, you are late to the party. You’ll be telling me you don’t know about Dulwich parkrun’s special day either at this rate!* The exact origins are somewhat mysterious to me, but essentially one of the Run Directors at Tring is Scottish, so when St Andrew’s Day came around (not sure if that was with or without an apostrophe at the time) he suggested a kilted parkrun was the appropriate response. Of course it was. So the good parkrunning people of Tring took this directive to their hearts and thus the tradition of Tring Kilted parkrun began. It is a fine thing, pretty much on a par with Burns night or Hogmanay in Scotland I understand – really and truly though, you have to go and find out for yourself. This is what philosophers mean when they say travel broadens the mind. Do your own primary research dear reader, don’t take my word for it. Apart from anything else, it might well be a lot quicker for you to wait a while and head off to the next available Tring kilted parkrun than to spend the next few weeks and months wading through this blog post. Each to their own though, and you have been warned. It’s now contributory negligence on your part if you choose to read on and succumb to the time vampire that is a parkrun themed blog post. All parkrunners have been there, photo albums are even worse. Hours and hours dissecting every shot, blurred or otherwise, to relive parkrun adventures after the event. Sigh, parkrun, the event that just keeps on giving eh…
Now, the pedants amongst you might be fretting at the missing apostrophe, is it St Andrews Day really or should it not be St Andrew’s Day? Well, the thing is dear reader, this has become a moot point, as the Apostrophe Protection Society is no more. This is obviously sad, and yet pleasingly, the person who I think practically single handedly fought the good fight, John Richards, resigned from his self-appointed post at the age of 96. Here he is. Looking at a very large apostrophe on his computer screen, in case you are the sort of philistine who isn’t even sure what an apostrophe looks like. Might be your last chance to see one …
Whilst I have no intention of still working, or indeed even being alive at 96, if I was founder of an apostrophe preservation society then I can think no better high on which to leave than when the numerals for your age look like back to back apostrophes! Anyway, sad as this is, it does mean you can add or ignore apostrophes with gay abandon. That battle has been lost. On balance, I think it pains me, or as I shall be compelled to write in future ‘pain’s me’. Oh the horror.
However you choose to express it, the wrong way or indeed what I like to think of as the right way, Saint Andrew’s Day is the feast day of Saint Andrew. It is celebrated on 30 November according to not only Tring parkrun but also wikipedia, so at least we have consensus there. Saint Andrew’s Day is Scotland’s official national day. Did you know it is also a national holiday in Romania? No, me neither. Just think, that means if they had parkrun in Romania, then they could potentially have an extra parkrun today – oh only it’s Saturday anyway this year, so maybe that would be a bit of a waste. I’m sure they have other celebratory days available to choose from if needs must.
Anyway, point is, I have contacts, I have insider info, I have an invite, I shall be there. parkrun tourism is calling me…. Been wanting to go to Tring for ages, I mean the name is splendid for a start, and I hear they have a better class of parkrunners there. Nice parkland location too, Tring it on!
It’s easy to over complicate things when choosing a parkrun destination. Many of us started out innocently enough, venturing away from our home runs only when cancellations forced us to forage for parkrun opportunities elsewhere. Next came the realisation that e.g. for me, within Sheffield, there were a fair few in reach, and it would be cool to do them all. Has to be acknowledged though, that the gateway drug to more strategic travel for many of us is the running challenges chrome extension. Suddenly the opportunity to get virtual badges that only you can see drives a compulsion to seek out parkruns to complete the alphabet (only you can’t because there isn’t an X and you have to go overseas for a Z and also loads of parkruns are going to be changing their names soon anyway…. oops.) Not gonna lie, that was enough motivation for me to seek to complete, amongst others, both my pirates and Stayin’ Alive challenges. Yes, shallow, I know. But look how fab they are, most decorative – and a correctly placed apostrophe, what’s not to like?
Even so, the compulsion to complete challenges can become mildly toxic so it was good this weekend to take things back to basics. The decision to go to Tring parkrun was simplicity distilled to its most basic form. All I did was start a running blog about 5 years ago and include a post about my experiences of running the Sheffield Half Marathon (my first one) laying it as bait for a Tring parkrunner to stumble across when preparing to run it for myself. Then there was just the little matter of securing a ballot place for the London marathon, but having to defer for a year, so that the year I did do it, was the same year as same Tring parkrunner also got lucky with the London Marathon ballot. Unbeknownst to me, said Tring parkrunner would continue to read my blog because we were both training for our first marathon, and it was London. She’s actually a reet good runner, whereas I’m, erm, what’s the word? Oh yes, ‘not’. Then the weather had to make it the hottest ever London Marathon, so that the night before facing London I was having a complete meltdown in my hotel room and did a looooooooooooooooong moany blog post about my angstiness. The husband of said marathon runner would read my blog post, and then comment on it to share with me that his lovely wife – Tring runner previously referred to – was similarly stressed by unanticipated heat wave following months of training in ice and snow. From that heartfelt message we bonded for all eternity, and it was basically from thereon in a foregone conclusion I’d be at Tring parkrun one day. We both did London, we met up at some Sheffield parkruns, as you do, and then one auspicious day, I got the kilted parkrun nod. The info this was happening, the offer of accomodation, and even assistance in scottish tartan beret making. It was meant to be. Like I said, parkrun tourism is just so simple when you strip it back to basics. From the moment I hit ‘publish’ on my blog post button about the Sheffield Half marathon in 2016, fate directed my path so it would culminate in being part of Tring kilted parkrun on 30 November 2019. Dear reader, this is how fate works. You can’t fight it, you have to surrender to it sometimes, and embrace the adventures that henceforth unfold… submit to the inevitable and sometimes your life is the richer for it.
So that’s the backstory, in summary, three years blogging, a couple of Sheffield half marathons and two different parkrunners getting lucky with the ballot for the London Marathon leading to mutual internet stalkery and becoming new best friends. Simples. What could possibly go wrong? Of course, you could skip some of those stages and just rock up at a new parkrun of your choice anytime, but where’s the fun in that? And there might not be kilts. I rest my case.
Course Description
The winter course is an out and back route on grass and dirt trails. Runners are asked to run on the left. Starting in the valley on the north side of the park next to the A41, the course heads into the NE corner of the grassy part of the park. Passing through a marshalled gate, shortly after turn right and climb a steep leafy path to the obelisk. Turn left here and carry on up to the Summer House where the path loops 180 degrees right to the top of the ridge. Follow this path south-west for 1.5 kilometres until the turnaround point just before Hastoe Lane and then returning along the same route. The finish is 200m beyond the start point. Trail shoes are recommended in winter.
and it looks like this:
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Yeah, whatever, sure it’ll be lovely, now on to think about fancy dress? Kilted parkrun. I take it that just means broad Scottish theme – or does it? I wonder, does that mean deferential and respectful embracing of Scottish culture, or does it mean carb loading with a deep fried mars bar (ingredients mars bar, batter, hot spitting fat) the night before and putting irn bru in your water bottle?
Full woad as in Braveheart perhaps… the woad would be easy enough
then again, getting the full flame effect as a backdrop would be a nightmare for the RD doing on the day risk assessments, need to think again…
Oh I don’t know, maybe better to go down the Nessie fancy dress option?
It helps that fortuitously in between me excitedly accepting the invite to go and the date dawning, we all became better informed about the Loch Ness monster FACT which is good to know. They are Monster eels apparently. Clearly a conspiracy to keep people away. Though to be fair, I’d be happy to see a ginormous eel or indeed a swimming elephant whilst visiting Loch Ness, or even Tring – is there a Loch in Tring? Didn’t spot one on the course map…. mind you, I really like the thought of elephants in captivity, particularly not in circuses, so it would have to be a wild one to be acceptable as a nessie sighting, and I’m dubious there are indigenous elephants in Scotland – or indeed Tring. They would trample and scare away the native haggis, and as haggis exist, the elephants can’t. Fact. I’m not happy about the midges though. Lawks a lordy, Scottish midges, now they are monstrous. Back to eels, conger eels are potentially absolutely huge though seeing conga eels would be even more fun. Makes you wonder…
Still, given how contentious it is with Nessie and all, perhaps I should stick with the tartan theme, which is towards the lower end of causing offence with casual racial stereotyping and/or cultural appropriation. Hoping so. Will be interesting to see if any other eeks nessie substitutes are present – or even a rubber chicken, that would be cool, that reminds me, I really must add Wyndham Vale parkrun to my to do list. It’s in Australia, might take me a while to get there, even if I set off now… Though I’ve already got a ‘W’ from Wakefield Thornes parkrun, that was a fun one – but lacking in rubber chickens now I come to think of it, though excellent on space ships. What you lost on the fowl front you gained on the force front. You had to be there really, no you did. Trust me.
Incidentally, another monster at Loch Ness is this 80 mile ultra marathon, bet that’s amazing, but then it would have to be to brave the midges, they are the real monster resident in Scotland! Looks blooming gorgeous though… seriously tempted. Don’t worry, you don’t have to do the full 80 – awesome as that would be, you can just do a few marathons instead if you prefer. Go awn, go awn go awn….
Anyway, you keep distracting me, we are heading to Tring not Loch Ness, and I’m going with the tartan. I had a chat with Geronimo – oh, did I not mention she’d be coming too? Well, we did London together, and so she’s part of our Tring twinning enterprise, it was only right and proper she comes along for the ride. Also, I understand from my Tring contacts that exotic African creatures have historically had a home at Tring park. I put her through the washing machine especially, she has never arrived at a parkrun more fragrant or more aptly attired…
We talked about improvising with green tights to create a nessie creature, but it was a non- starter. Geronimo felt that would cramp her running style, and she didn’t want to look stupid in the way that the wearing of green tights can so often result in. It’s a look not everyone can carry off to be fair. Upshot was that I came to think the tartan is a simpler and safer bet. Granted, some may see our wearing of the tartan as lazy and casual racial stereotyping, but I see desperate times calling for desperate measures. If Brexit happens I’ll be wanting to demonstrate my Scottish credentials as best I can, however tenuously, and surely a robust celebration of St Andrew’s Day will smooth the passage towards gaining Scottish citizenship further down the line. Sporting some tartan along with happy smiles is sure to swing it should the need arise. Decisions made. Hurrah! It’s all going to be just grand. A wee adventure for the both of us!
Oh you want to know more about the exotic animals at Tring. Fair does. I was keen to find out more too. Basically, my Tring parkrun contacts informed me that Zebras are ten a penny at Tring. I can now confirm from personal experience that the parkrun route is carriage friendly, it even has a carriage turning circle at the top of the ridgeway which is most certainly a boon for anyone planning on taking their own zebra carriage for a spin along the paths there. Look, spoiler alert, this was taken mid parkrun, but it I can’t keep it from you anymore, so exciting to be able to share:
OK, I will concede it isn’t perhaps immediately obvious this is a turning circle for a zebra carriage, but surely you can see it now you are in the know?
I don’t honestly know if there are specific rules in the parkrun code regarding the inclusion of exotic animals at parkrun events, but for the record, Geronimo was made welcome, as a giraffe respected in her own right. This was especially pleasing, as I do worry that once she’s spotted in a forthcoming feature film next year people might treat her differently. Her meteoric rise to inevitable stardom is a foregone conclusion, hence it’s all the more important to treasure these personal memories before she becomes famous and potentially relationships shift. Here it felt the welcome was authentic and genuine, and equally offered to all incoming parkrun tourists and regulars alike. You are curious about her stardom? Well, I can’t say too much about that just yet – confidentiality clauses and all that – but I will say she could be upstaging big names on a big screen near you come summer 2020, no-one parties like Geronimo under a storm of confetti at a street party in Sheffield. I’ll say no more… I think we just all need to apply a bit of common sense, but those confidentiality clauses are a bind.
Clue though:
Nope, that’s it, nothing more, my lips are sealed…
So back to kilted parkrun day. As has already been established, Geronimo likes to party, so she came sporting a kilt, and that made her a shoo-in for a VIP welcome. I daresay other African mammals would also make the cut, but contact the core team via the facebook page in advance if in doubt. This is the usual turn out convention with zebras at Tring – looks like the ‘one dog per runner’ rule is upped to four zebras per participant max here…
I’m not sure of the ethics of riding an endangered giant tortoise round the route, although the photos would suggest it’s been done before. Presumably this would have to be recorded as an ‘assisted run’ and only one barcode allowed. Actually, that’s not true, I am pretty sure of the ethics around this. It’s a terrible idea, let the poor animals be.
Depressingly, most of Rothschild’s eclectic menagerie collection ended up being stuffed and displayed. That makes me sad. Then again, some of his impulses were around conservation, and much of his collection ended up in museums contributing to research. It’s complicated. You can read more about him and his life – including how he got given a museum for a 21st birthday present one year, as can happen apparently… here. It does however explain the sign about wallabies roaming in Tring, I know wallabies aren’t from Africa, it’s the ‘exotic’ species link I’m making here.
and probably also explains why no-one really batted an eye about a giraffe rocking up at Tring parkrun, though they did like her fine tartan beret, as indeed they should. It was a gift from the good Tring parkrunners who hosted me too. Their hospitality was beyond compare…
Speaking of which. This visitation was not so much ‘parkrun tourism’ as parkrun mini-break. I set off from Sheffield on Friday afternoon, and arrived at my guests abode late afternoon, in daylight and in time for pre-parkrun faffery. parkrun is even more fun if you prolong the experience with pre and post parkrun related activities. In this case, we had to check out the various fancy dress options, experiment with tartan ribbons, and especially pleasingly for me, be the recipient of a fine parkrun tartan beret. I had been alerted to this development in advance, and it was tailor made using a panda as a model.
They aren’t from Africa too, and this particular panda isn’t really into parkrun, but was happy to contribute to the success of the occasion by offering up a head to aid beret construction. That’s one of the many things I love about parkrun, there is scope for everyone to be part of it, even if they aren’t running or even rocking up on the day. It’s a community bigger even than the impressive Saturday morning attendance stats suggest. Hang on, I’ll check it out – right, these are the summary stats as of today, 4 December 2019 (yes, that’s after the date of this blog post I know, so shoot me, time travel is possible in the land of blogs, you just post for whatever date, past or future – you don’t seriously think I’d have written all this on Kilted parkrun afternoon, as well as having post-parkrun eggy bread and going through all the photos? Quite.)
Number of events: 156,628
Number of runners: 2,240,488
Number of runs: 32,284,453
Number of locations: 684
Number of clubs: 6,667
Number of PBs: 5,540,683
Average runs per event: 206.1
Average number of runs per runner: 14.4
Average run time: 00:28:46
Total hours run: 1,767 Years 233 Days 16 Hrs 33 Min 28 Secs
Total distance run: 161,422,265km
Wowsers!
No wonder it’s changed so many lives. Hurrah that Mr P S-H, got awarded the he RSA Albert Medal this year, it’s given annually for innovation in the fields of creativity, commerce and social improvement. You can watch the full presentation and his speech here:
but come back and do that later or you’ll never even get to the start line of Tring parkrun, and never find out if it was a Braveheart-esque line up on a big long start line like William Wallace and the massed Scottish armies, or a more sedate trot out as if on a carriage ride pulled by zebras. However, you can snigger at the childish observation of Danny Norman of With Me Now who boasted that he got to touch Paul S-H’s Prince Albert. (Chortle).
Hang on, there’s an official press release thingy parkrun Founder wins prestigious award with a more formal portrait. And the medal is so very fine, it even comes in it’s own box I see! Now that’s class!
Lots of teeth in the pictures, most impressive. I admire teeth, and intend to hang on to mine for as long as possible. Not in a creepy way, if I do lose them I won’t be threading them on to a necklace, but you are unlikely to meet anyone as obsessive about brushing their teeth regularly as I am… Anyway, stop distracting me with teeth talk, even though it is true that the best Batman and Robin episode ever was the one where Robin had to save himself from falling to his death by hanging on to a rope with his teeth because his hands were tied behind his back, and Batman said in the closing moments ‘and remember Robin, you owe your life to dental hygiene‘ He was so wise… And ahead of his time too, oral hygiene prevents heart attacks too dear reader. Actually, this isn’t a complete digression as Batman and Robin were both present at Tring parkrun too – how else do you explain the cape?
Can’t wait for the next With Me Now podcast, it’s going to be epic, even if it might be light on tooth care. Then again they all are, the podcasts, with or without oral hygiene segments, frankly, I could stay in the house til spring now, just listening to the WMN back catalogue and venturing out only to attend actual parkruns in between listening to, and poring over accounts of ones that have already passed… I have to catch up on Free, Weekly Timed too, being a late adopter there. In fact, that’s my Christmas Day indulgence sorted. parkrun podcasts and a sofa post Christmas Day parkrun, and I shall be living in an earthly paradise indeed. Ho ho ho. That’s lifted my Christmas spirit, can’t wait now. Not many more sleeps to go…
Anyway, back to arriving at my hosts. Fancy dress sorted, parkrun tales shared, just the little matter of carbing up nicely the night before. We had vegetarian haggis with neaps and tatties which was excellent. And then we had Scottish cranachan recipe courtesy of Mary Berry fortunately, my host used the pictorial directions in the recipe dividing up the pudding into three portions… it was only the next day she noticed that the quantities were intended to serve 8. Still, parkrunners like a challenge, we managed to polish of the lot, and very nice it was too! Delicious in fact. Great way to set ourselves up for the Scottish delights that would unfold before us on the morrow…
and so the morrow came, which is actually today – if you believe the post date for this blog, or a few days ago if you are pedantic and want to know in real time what the timelines are.
Bracing. That was the word. A deep, picturesque frost – in fact, loads of parkruns in Sheffield and elsewhere were cancelled due to ice, so I got lucky in having already made it safely south. Hot coffee was quaffed, and last minute parkrun faffing commenced. My hosts with the most drove me through pretty villages – used as a backdrop for many a midsomer murder episode apparently, and towards Tring. Now dear reader, Tring parkrun has many excellent attributes, but it is not blessed with conveniently located loos. My regular reader knows I cannot countenance undertaking a parkrun without a precautionary pee, fortunately my hosts catered for all needs, so it was that we did a Tesco detour en route. There are loos in the public car park apparently, but the Tesco ones are nicer, and have a handy tampon/ condom machine too.
Precautionary pees completed, off to the parkrun venue. Apparently there are a couple of different car parks, but I didn’t pay too much attention to this, as I was chauffeur driven. We arrived nice and early, passing the not at all conspicuously attired parkrun carpark marshal(s) already mustering and in situ extra early to keep parkrunners safe and on track.
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It was cold though, not gonna lie, was glad I’d not gone for the bare-legged kilted option, though kudos to my travelling companions who did. Brrrrr. Next challenge, fancy dress sorting. This is what goes on behind the scenes quite probably at a parkrun near you. I think the degree of self-sacrifice (baring legs in the cold) and creativity that goes into making the parkrun fancy dress transformations happen adds to the parkrun magic, but look away now if you don’t want to see the smoke and mirrors lifted…
I think she was helping to put the kilt on… not sure. You know what, the parkrun code requests that we all respect everyone else’s right to participate in their own way, so let’s do that, and not worry about the particular dressing/undressing car park shenanigans shall we, each to their own.
And that was it. OHMYGAWDTHISISSOEXCITING! Kilts on? Check. Barcodes present and correct? Check. Laden with shortbread tins of tunnocks teacakes? Check Ready for action dear reader, Bring. It. On.
Last minute check round for anything left behind. What’s that – a pair of gloves, bound to belong to a fellow parkrunner, my contribution was to scoop these up and take them along too. Truthfully, I wasn’t much practical assistance to the Tring parkrun experience, unless you count enthusiastic and appreciative participant, which I do. My hosts were doing a great job with their jenga balancing skills being tested by a quantity of tins and flasks of hot coffee, would have undermined their confidence if I’d thought to offer to help… probably. Almost certainly, that’s why I didn’t risk it. Anyway, I was too distracted by the stunning location and sights and sounds of the venue to focus on being useful. And we’d not even left the car park for goodness sake!
In fact, the set up team, who’d been out even earlier, took some amazing photos of the frost-scaped early morning. Reet nice out as we say up north!
You leave the car park through a pretty gate, and turn right following the sign to Tring park (a clue for the observant amongst you) and head along the path towards a spectacular curly bridge. Not hard, and the chances are there’ll be other parkrunners to follow.
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Don’t forget to admire the wildlife murals, they are to an impressive standard. There was even artwork on the curly bridge, but I didn’t take a photo as I was clinging to the handrail to avoid skidding on the icy steps at the time. If you are braver, or there is less ice, you could look for longer.
It’s super exciting when you get to the curly bridge, because it’s quite an architectural feature in its own right, but it also opens up the most fantastic views across Tring park and you get the fun spectacle of watching from above as ant sized parkrunners start to congregate. They weren’t actually ant-sized FYI – well not unless there are some exceptionally large mutant ants in these parts, they just looked tiny because they were far away. I’ve been through this before. These are small, these are far away a la Father Ted, Yes, she is carrying a bottle of irn-bru. The coffee in flasks story was just a cover…
Rather epic isn’t it. And VERY EXCITING!
So we trit trotted over the curly bridge, you can tell you are in the right place because of a strategically placed ‘caution runner’ signs. Always a relief and frisson of excitement as a parkrun tourist when you espy one of those. We tagged along with the gathering throngs. It was not only beautiful and atmospheric, but also a lot of fun, as we started to espy other kilted parkrunners striding towards the gathering point. My pictures make it look a bit bleak, but honestly it wasn’t, it was just lovely, and perfect… if a tad bracing for my liking – and I still had my fleece most definitely on at this juncture. Pity those sporting naked legs. I mean, kudos for honouring the kilted spirit but brrrrr.
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There is a pleasing mini optical illusion as you approach the clan gathering point. You think it’s flat, but actually, the path – which is basically cross country rather than a formal walkway as such – ‘suddenly’ goes down into a dip. These means even though you feel like you are basically walking on the flat, you unexpectedly (to me, you’ll know so I suppose I’ve potentially ruined the surprise for you now, oops) find yourself at what is the brow of little hill, and unfolding before you in a big reveal was the encampment! So exciting.
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It’s hard to describe the scene, but I won’t let that stop me, why let a picture be a thousand words when you can type considerably more than that and gift your reader confusion wonderment?
It was like espying an arctic research station, or a first human settlement on some remote planet, or possibly even a festival tent, the first marker of a party tent for those that come. It was epic! Look at the early picture of it put up in the dawn light. I say put up in the dawn light, but it looked quite complicated, they had probably been working on erecting this for many weeks, I doubt the cows hanging around were all that much practical assistance to be fair. Good job. This photo is amazing, it captures the Brigadoon like way that Tring parkrun sort of materialises out of the mist. They do have regular results listed on their official parkrun page though, so I’m pretty sure it appears more often than one day every hundred years (imagine how annoying that would be, particularly if the one day that Tring appeared it was neither a Saturday nor bonus parkrun day. Oh, the horror!). Still, wouldn’t hurt to check their Tring parkrun Facebook page in advance if you are making a special trip, just to be on the safe side.
In fact, this domed cathedral was the VIP tent. It covered a table groaning under the weight of Scottish consumables, and was adorned with flags as well as being awash with good will. In fact, as you will appreciate, all parkrunners are equally important, so everyone could access all areas, and very nice it was too. My hosts added to the weighty load of the table, whilst I helpfully lurked and took photos, and wondered at what point I’d have to take off my fleece. More dedicated sports people warmed up for parkrun with traditional sword dances, as you do. Impressive.
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People continued to arrive, all smiles and kilts. Happy parkrunners a-gathering on an auspicious and frabjous day! Callooh! Callay! Cèilidh! I do like it when people make an effort, and I also like it when there are photos to document such dedication that can be endlessly looked at later. It extends the timeline of joy that parkrun offers up, beyond the Friday night anticipation, the Saturday morning big event into potentially many months of memories and reflection and sometimes laugh ’til you think your knickers will never dry shared recollections. I wonder why tena haven’t been approached as parkrun sponsors? Other incontinence product manufacturers are available. Only a matter of time surely. I mean, they may not be so necessary if you are wearing a kilt and adhering to tradition in terms of what lies beneath, but pads could be a boon at non-kilted parkruns, particularly for those who lack strength with their pelvic floors.
There may have been a certain amount of posing, and those swords were most certainly a boon for creative play. Every parkrun should have photo props methinks. Game changer!
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I say I took photos, and indeed I did, but I also foraged for some subsequently, and so many of the better shots are not attributable to me, but to the Tring parkrun official photographers, for which many thanks. They were fab. All high vis heroes are. Obvs.
Where was I? Oh yes, mingling at the start. Another innovation at Tring, is that they lay out a huge blue tarpaulin on which you can leave all your stuff. I feel they missed a bit of an opportunity to transform it into the Scottish flag the St Andrew’s Cross through the simple effort of tippexing a white saltire onto it, but maybe they didn’t have enough time after spending ages putting up the VIP tent. The idea is that this keeps your stuff together and dry. Hang on, I’ll find a pic:
Hurrah! It’s the usual ‘leave at your own risk’ system, but you’d have to be a bold thief to take on the collective might of the ferocious-looking battle-ready broadsword- brandishing core team left behind at the pod to keep order whilst parkrunners did their thing. Well, they were gathered around the finish funnel area nearby in their high-vis vests, which amounts to the same thing.
I still had the pair of gloves I’d picked up from the car park so tossed them in the middle of the tarpaulin where hopefully their rightful owners would discover them. I mean surely only parkrunners would be roving round the carpark at this ungodly hour, carelessly dropping their gloves for others to find. I did ask half heartedly around for glove droppers, and tried to discreetly look for gloveless hands turning blue with cold amongst those gathering in the hope of using my Miss Marple skills to find the person who had suffered this loss, but my efforts came to nothing. … Oops, hope there isn’t some poor random dog walker even now checking round their car puzzling about where on earth else they could have dropped their favourite woollen gloves on their sojourn to Tring park… Oh the angst. You have no idea! At least the gloves were getting their own micro adventure I suppose, but at what cost.
What next? First timers’ briefing I think. There was a fair few of us from near and far. Some who like me, had been wooed over by the prospect of kilts as well as the intrinsic glory of Tring. Wave to the Poolsbrook traveller, who I didn’t meet on the day but found out we were fellow travellers from the north after the event. Hello, next time maybe?
There were even a few first time everers! What a one to choose for your debut. I like to think they will have gone away believing kilts to be not just de rigueur at Tring, but actually compulsory at parkruns everywhere. People came from near and far, with and without kiltery, which just goes to show, if you build it they will come!
The briefing was welcoming and succinct, something about a hill, and the route was described, and the ridgeway, and things to look out for. Hills don’t particularly phase me, not because I’m fast, but quite the opposite, I’m really slow, and hills legitimise me walking, so all good.
Then there was a little bit of anticipatory waiting.
At some point I availed myself of the thistle on the cheek temporary tattooing service, so that was good … Actually, can we just pause for a moment to appreciate the magnitude of that particular offering. Someone had the initiative, foresight and creativity to bring along with them a thistle stencil and a sponge preloaded with face paint or indelible ink, I forget which – purely for the purposes of helping fellow parkruns really rock the Scottish themes. That’s awesome. For this great public service fellow parkrunner – and your most excellent plumed hat, I thank you. He got about 40+ marked up pre-parkrun I understand, and you can see his handiwork captured in some of the photos. Grand is it not? You might have to squint a bit to see them, but trust me, there are there, twice in one case, check it out!
He probably would have got more, but his efforts were interrupted as we were corralled for the mass walk to the start, which was just a little way on, up a slope. The walk was lovely. It was fun as a collective activity, and also fun because there were coos along the way. Coo marshals shooed them to one side.
The cows were calm, photogenic and placid. Unlike Sheffield cows which may be photogenic but need to be given a very wide berth. Not phased by the parkrunners at all, which was a relief. I also took a mandatory selfie. Has to be done. And I had by this point removed my fleece. Kill me now. It was very cold indeed. I thought my nipples would freeze and fall off, they didn’t on this occasion, but it was touch and go I don’t mind telling you.
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Then we were gathered at the start, where by complete coincidence there was fiddler and an accordian player on hand to provide musical accompaniment to the run. I mean, honestly, what were the chances of that, and how very fine!
It was apparently the Run Director’s event debut, you couldn’t tell, it all seemed very slick to me, clearly a well oiled team runs this show, or well lubricated by early morning seasonally appropriate Scotch Whisky on this particular occasion at any rate…
We were gathered in a semi-circle for the briefing, cheers for milestones, cheers for volunteers. To mark the occasion, there was also the official kilt wearing shot, and the kilt lifting one too. Has to be done.
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and then suddenly, there was the countdown and we were off!
As usual, I just slotted myself in at the back. I like to pootle these days, partly dodgy back, partly being unfit anyway but a great deal of liking to take my own time and take in the view. The view from the back can be glorious, it is often the fun factory of a parkrun, and what’s more, on this particular route, being out and back, you get to see everyone at some point anyway. Hurrah.
You head off up a fairly gentle incline, and then along a flat bit known locally as cowpat ally. It was so cold, the ground was pretty much frozen, so no mud bath or slurry pit sliding required today.
Rather you could skip through, and cheerily greet the marshals on the gate in situ to see you safely through into the wood and the first of the proper uphill up to the ridgeway.
Well dear reader, I can report that it is indeed a hill. Quite a long one. It’s picturesque (my signature word of the day forTring parkrun it seems) in the wood, and sheltered too, but it is also quite a long heave ho up the woodland track to the obelisk. A full kilometer I think, but I didn’t check. I did have a vague moment of clarity when I recalled my host telling me that when she was trying to get her husband into parkrun she deliberately didn’t take him along to Tring for his first one for fear of putting him off forever. Hmmm. Possibly a point. I paced myself by walking. Works for me. As others peeled off ahead, you could see them through the trees. There was also a lurking photographer at a corner spot, to capture the action. All details attended to at this parkrun.
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It’s quite hard taking photos in the wood. The trees are magnificent and tall, and bright sunshine above tried to break through their canopy. You are heading towards the obelisk. I do like a landmark on a parkrun, and this one was particularly fine. It was so high the top was way up in the winter sunshine, so with the dark at the base it took on a near mystical quality. This spot has its own regular marshal to keep you in order. He offered smiles and words of encouragement on both the out and back. Sometimes there is even music from speakers here apparently, though not today. There is a story about that I gather, but I didn’t get to hear what it was.
From here, you do a zig towards the summer house, and then a zag back upwards to the ridgeway.
Lots of friendly marshals along the way. Well, maybe not lots, but certainly sufficient, and they all had interactive settings so you could engage with them en route. You could even pose for photographs with them, or get them to take photos of you and your new best friend you’ve just made at parkrun. Inexplicably, some parkrunners just sprint round the whole course without stopping to pose for pictures, but perhaps they haven’t yet realised this is a viable option. Maybe one not absolutely compatible with getting a pb, but then again, I pbed automatically on this route because it was my first time, just putting it out there as a thought.
Once you are on the ridgeway, breaks in the tree line now and again give amazing views, which once again are alas, hard to photograph, but you might get a broad gist from these two – it’s the same site, but with different emphasis on foreground in one and view in the other. I tried dear reader, I tried:
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As I was having a leisurely event, I paused to try and photograph some runners at the carriage turning spot. There being a distinct lack of zebra drawn carriages along the way today, there was plenty of room for runners in both directions.
Onwards, and a bit further up was another view point, and the uncontested winner for top trumps cameras in situ too. Size might not be everything, but sometimes you have to acknowledge it can impress, as with the obelisk, so too with this lens thingamajig. And you have to concede it is quite something to be able to draw attention away from the eye-catching redhead in full pelt as well as full tartan sprinting by in the foreground.
Oh look more runners coming by – including mein hosts! Hurrah!
Though if they are coming back the other way, maybe time to get a wiggle on myself. It’s reasonably flat and sure footed along the ridgeway, and after a bit, you reach a turn around point, where you are invited to run round, if not the actual marshal, then the cone at this point. It doesn’t specify how many times you should run round the cone, as many as you like, I was running a bit late, so just did the one, but others may have done more. One enthusiast apparently overshot the point entirely, and had to be wrestled back by the marshal and spun round to head back to the finish funnel. They are alert and primed for action at a moment’s notice these marshals. Quality effort.
Coming back along the ridgeway, you see the views again, better actually, as the light was less whiting out and more illuminating. Oh look, tailwalkers. Always a welcome sight, and companionably putting the world to rights as they went along by the look of things.
I noticed more details on the way back. There are little footpath signs and a Walter’s Wander walk of sorts. I tried to get a parkrunner bordered by the cut out sigh, but never a parkrunner en route when you need one, maybe you can photoshop yourself in some time later.
And then check out this view – you can even see the finish area and the Rothschild stately home too, if you aren’t so worried about the prospects of getting premature wrinkles you can have a good squint.
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And friendly marshals again. Still friendly and supportive second time round. Marshalling in the cold of a crisp winter morning, and greeting all parkrunners with equal enthusiasm takes tenacity, stamina and grace, all were in evidence today, for which I thank them all.
And check out the summer house, spectacularly lit by the sun. Great place to sit and watch the parkrun whizz by methinks.
and from the summer house, you can see the obelisk ahead, homeward bound now, and some proper downhill coming too, the yin to the yan of the up.
It was quiet by now, and I was nearly caught by surprise by a stealth photographer still en route, but he caught me and Geronimo in full flight. For the dubious amongst you, and I think there may be a few, surely this shot is absolute proof that running with a Giraffe is not as much of a help on a run as you might think. The psychological and emotional support of having a companion animal along with me cannot be overstated, but in terms of six legs better than two, maybe not quite so much of an asset as you might imagine!
Actually, it might be time for some gratuitous parkrunning action shots, courtesy of the official photographers, a little interlude, before we come to the climactic finish. Running with a buggy must have been tough.
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So after smiling and waving at the photographer en route, you charge on down the hill, depending on your courage and your faith in your trail shoes, and back out of the wood and into cowpat alley once again. As I passed through, a runner who’d already finished was coming back the other way, holding refreshments I presume for the marshal(s), who must have been getting cold by now.
The light was beautiful, and the scenery lovely, and my erm, let’s go with ‘sedate’ pace meant I had it pretty much to myself too.
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The pictures don’t really do it justice I’m afraid, but think of them as but a spoiler, something to whet your appetite so you make the effort to go and see for yourself.
After a little while, again the finish funnel comes into view just as you are coming over the brow of the hill. There is the usual glorious sight of welcoming volunteers, a well staffed finish funnel and a few parkrunners who had stayed behind to cheer the final few through.
What was less usual, but exceedingly glorious, was to be serenaded by the duo who were there from start to finish. It was a.maz.ing! Only problem is, I want live music at all my parkrun finishes now. And not just live, but bespoke, so themed to each and every occasion. Is that really so very much to hope for?
Also, and this is a bit weird, it was like entering a different world on the return leg. Sunshine had melted the frost and the grass was green and the shadows just as atmospheric but the scenery quite transformed somehow. I had my barcode wristband thingy scanned in record time. I treated myself to one of the anniversary wristbands, but it’s not had a great success rate scanning, two out of five occasions used it didn’t record for some reason. No worries today, see, everything about this parkrun was practically perfect in every way!
So that was my parkrun ended, but it wasn’t the end of the fun. So much still to do. Specifically, to play with the swords, too good an opportunity to miss, particularly when you’ve come dressed for it especially. You know, I think that’s one of the most brilliant things about parkrun, yes, yes, we all know it’s good to exercise and be part of a community blah de blah, and I am 100% behind those aspects too, however, maybe for me the bottom line is something about it creating a space where we have permission to play. Being able to participate in parkrun in your own way includes joyful scampering about. Where else would it be completely acceptable to mess about with swords in some country park somewhere and be confident that parkrun friends would join in and someone would have the wit to photograph the occasion for posterity – even direct the participants to ensure they captured the perfect shot! I can’t quite decide which is the perfect one though, so you’ll have to look at the slide show for a whole load of them, and other posing too. It’ll be fun, it was for us, you can have fun by association, or simply think yourself accursed you were not here, though it was St Andrew’s Day remember, and not St Crispin’s.
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No animals or parkrunners were injured or distressed in the posing for these photos.
Still time to linger, avail ourselves of refreshments, enjoy the view and welcome back the volunteers and tail walkers.
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However, all good things must come to an end. Eventually everyone was accounted for, as the last of the marshals came in en masse
Then there was just the little matter of taking down the VIP zone. That was quite technical, and involved a great many people helping, and me circling around unhelpfully whilst I fretted about the gloves. Remember them? Well, they were still on the tarpaulin so not reunited with their rightful owner then. Oh lawks a lordy, someone, somewhere has probably lost multiple digits from their hands because of me ‘helpfully’ removing them. Just as I was falling into near despair at this thought, I vocalised my dilemma, only for someone to pipe up ‘oh, they are mine! It’s OK, I had a spare pair!‘ Phew, it ended happily dear reader.
So too with the tent deconstruction, with some expert supervision, it was dismantled with exemplary teamwork.
I commented to anyone in earshot that this was the sort of high performance practical problem solving that would make me confident that Tring parkrunners are also able to fold up their collapsable start sign and even parkrun flag. Awkward. Apparently not. One amongst our company disclosed they actually have the Tring parkrun start sign very much open on their kitchen floor, steadfastly refusing to be packed away despite having watched youtube tutorials on the theme. It may even have been the cause of a blip in usual domestic harmony. Oops. Assume nothing dear reader, learn from me. Mind you, those bannery things, they are tough! Here’s Great Notley parkrun, grappling with the pop up so we don’t have to:
and that was that, everybody started to disperse, and where once there were runners, now there was nothing but footprints and the echo of laughter. We took away photos and memories. Some departing were noticeably more laden than others! Bravo volunteer heroes, above and beyond on so many levels. Your labours were very much appreciated. Best kilted parkrun ever!
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Yes, I did notice it looks a little bit like they might be trying to dispose of a body, but let’s give them the benefit of the doubt. Even if they are, I’m sure they will have had their reasons. Talking through the run briefing does really need to be stamped out, I didn’t notice any of that at Tring, and perhaps this is why…
Oh, an in case you are regretting having missed it, you can relive the glory of the run through this actual footage of the kilted parkrun, or possibly the kilted coaches, but it looks broadly similar, so you’ll get the idea. That’s a fancy dress haggis chasing them down at Tring by the way. They aren’t real, that would be silly. Real haggises (haggae?) are much, much smaller, but equally ferocious, and don’t wear fake tartan hat/hair combos, obvs.
You’re welcome.
Back to the carpark – remembering to check out the lovely wildlife pics again:
Time for a quick pose by the gate – one for the family album surely, or at very least their fridge…
and alas, that was that. Just the mud on the shoes remaining to prove we’d been there. I’m not one to bear a grudge, but couldn’t help noticing my toesies were a lot muddier than Geronimo’s. Still, we’d both had a fab morning out so no cause for complaint.
So basically, this was indeed the best parkrun ever… until the next one. That’s the funny thing, it was completely brilliant, but I never fear anticlimax at my next parkrun, because all parkruns are uniquely wonderful. Just as the capacity to love is infinite, so too is the capacity of parkrun to engage and enthrall… worst case scenario is type two fun – only fun retrospectively, but that’s still fun is it not, and parkrun is always parkfun, or your money back!
Also, for me, the awesomeness wasn’t even quite over yet, as it was back to mein hosts for post parkrun eggy bread – which I’ve not had in years and years, and steaming hot coffee, and a de-brief about all the fun we’d had and a sharing of some of the photos too. Perfect end to a perfect parkrun. Post parkrun brunches consolidate parkrun fun and parkrun memories. It was just brilliant. I felt like I’d been not so much on a mini break, but on an actual holiday, maybe in part because I had. This might be the way forward for parkrun tourism, groom befriend people over the internet for a period of a few years and then turn up at their houses wanting to stay the night so you can run at their parkrun the next day. Only moving house will prevent this occurrence from happening again. Actually, now I come to think of it, there was some mention of a potential move further down the line… no surely not, had to be bluffing, and anyway, just a coincidental mention.
So sadly, the time came where I had to leave. My hosts cheerily waved me off cheerfully.
Possibly a little too cheerfully at seeing me go now I come to think of it, but then again they had to crack on with the rest of their busy day. You can see they are just itching to get on with their spontaneous outburst of Scottish Country dancing, and that shortbread wouldn’t be eating itself now, plus there was scotch to be drunk also. I think they keep the Drambuie back for bathing in. It lightens the legs. No rest for the wicked as the saying goes… Just another typical parkrun morning, paying homage to their wannabe Scottish heritage. Honestly, when they aren’t indulging in Scottish themed consumables, they are running up tartan accessories and working on their highland flings. I know, I’ve been there. …
So thank you lovely Tring parkrunners all, but especially thank you to my virtual and now actual parkrunning Tring friends, we have officially bonded now, we have shared a kilted parkrun together, this can never be undone, not that we’d want to, because it was brilliant. Exceeded expectations even, which is saying a great deal as I’ve been excited about it for ages and ages! 🙂
Incidentally, if you would like to triangulate my account of this Tring parkrun with another, then dip into the very fine debut run report for event #276 Highland (Fl)Tring!!!! which you can access here. Recommended. Full exposure of Tring parkrun. There are also a gazillion photos (yes, I think it is an actual number) with albums aplenty included kilted parkrun album part one, Lucy’s perspective (yes, that’s me!) and the final collection – like I said, really a lot of photos, but you can never have too much of a good parkrun thing. FACT. Also, what’s new year for if not for reminiscing about the high points of last one, all those pics could come in handy.
Same time next year anyone? Or just get in the habit of wearing a kilt anyway, they are surprisingly warm to run in apparently, and handy if you need an al fresco precautionary pee I understand.
So keep on having parkrun fun y’all, here’s to new parkrunning adventures for all of us, wherever they may lead us.
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, and you might be needing to get on with your life again now. You are needed in it.
*Oh you want to know about Dulwich parkrun. Well, turns out it may be Dul by name but it is far from Dul by nature (see what I did there, gawd I’m hilarious sometimes, great punning action). They only do a Eurovision Song contest themed parkrun every year. That’s my 16 May 2020 parkrun destination sorted – hopefully it won’t be negatively impacted by Brexit. Do love a parkrun that sets its own traditions. Colwick parkrun has its Hawaiian shirts, Tring parkrun its kilted run and Dulwich parkrun the full European spectrum. Choose your parkruns wiseley dear reader, and your grand tour will be most enlightening, educational and – best of all – entertaining. Start making your bespoke bunting now…
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.
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:
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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…
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
Digested read: parkrun tourism took me to Clifton parkrun, Nottingham. Sixth of the seven seas. Result.
Undigested read:
I was contemplating going to Clifton parkrun anyway, it’s not too far away from Sheffield, and will nab me a sixth of my seven needed cs for the much coveted pirates badge. I hadn’t particularly prioritised coming here, but was given a timely nudge by a recent parkrun blog post on alphabeteering challenges. They featured Clifton parkrun as their possible ‘c’ to seize (c what I did there? I know, genius!) They pointed out:
Clifton parkrun in Nottingham is definitely one for you to ‘C’ – see what we did there? Clifton is a relative newcomer to the parkrun family having launched in January 2018 and involves two laps of the playing fields, followed by one shorter lap.
It’s already proved popular with the local community; in just seven months, almost 1,000 different women, men, girls and boys have had their barcodes scanned at Clifton!
Fair do’s. I’ll go there then. Never sure where / whether to put the apostrophe in fair do’s, I mean you can’t write it ‘does’ because that’s the wrong word entirely, whether as a plural of rabbits or referring to third person singular present of ‘do’. Nightmare, hope the grammar police are having a day off…
The other important factor about Clifton parkrun is that it is in Clifton Park Nottingham, not Clifton Park, Rotherham, although it wouldn’t be a disaster to go there by accident as they do in fact have a very nice parkrun there, but it’s Rotherham parkrun, so it wouldn’t be a ‘c’ (disappointing potentially for budding pirates) but would be a potential ‘r’ (cheering for budding pirates currently without an arrrrrrrrrrrrrrr). Such is the yin and yan of parkrun life. In fact, Rotherham parkrun may well have been where I got my arrrrrrr, now I come to think of it, although I have a feeling I wasn’t particularly chasing running challenges back then. Those were simpler times perhaps, though I wouldn’t change a thing… Or did I get it at Rother Valley parkrun? Can’t remember and can’t be bothered to check the chronology. Rotherham parkrun has better coffee and a museum on site though, and fits the Clifton park link best, so let’s go with that for the purposes of the narrative. Sometimes you shouldn’t let absolute truth get in the way of a good story, or even, as in this case, a fairly mediocre one. Where’s the harm after all? There’s also Clifton Park in Bristol, but that doesn’t have a parkrun as far as I can tell so no point at all in a parkrunner to rocking up there for 9.00 a.m. on a Saturday morning, that way disappointment lies.
You may think I’m banging on about all these many and varied Clifton locations at boring length simply stating the obvious, i.e. check out your parkrun destination prior to departure, but confusion can occur dear reader, although the truly dedicated will ride this out. Did you not hear about the parkrun volunteer, Ian Guest, who
had intended to help at a run in Clifton Park, Rotherham, South Yorkshire, on Saturday morning. But on Friday evening he realised he had signed up for the run in Clifton, Nottingham, 37 miles (60km) away. Despite his error – and thoughts of backing out – he made it to the race after an early morning bike ride to his local train station.
So there you have it, Ian Guest, parkrun hero, though you have to hope not a travel planner adviser by profession. He got his 15 minutes of fame and immortality in the parkrun annals of history, so not an altogether bad outcome there. High five to him all the same. Respect! #loveparkrun #parkrunhero
I don’t really know how hashtags work to be honest, but that seems fair… 🙂
So, I’d be going to Clifton parkrun, though not by bike. Best check out what to expect from the course then, now I know where I’m heading. Well, the Clifton parkrun, Nottingham, official website course blah de blah describes it thus:
Course Description
The start and finish are located behind the pavilion building and are a short walk from the car park. The course follows the perimeter of two Clifton playing fields and alongside Fairham Brook. The route is run mainly on grass and consists of two full anticlockwise laps of the perimeter and a further short lap of part of the large playing field.
Oh crap, ‘mainly on grass’ I shall have to steal myself for that – but on the plus side, an on site coffee option, not seen one of them in the last few weeks.
and the course looks like this – sort of Marge Simpson in profile if you squint a bit and get the angle right.
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Can you see, her hair, her head and maybe her shoulders, it’s not an exact science I admit, but have a go. It’s partly the blue outline I concede. Still can’t see? Have you heard of aphantasia ? No reason, just asking.
Stalking the Clifton parkrun Facebook page in advance, I can’t help but note there is a distinct lack of Hawaiian shirts (not good), but a lot of shout outs for milestones and interesting links posted (good). Yep, this will be a grand destination. There are some fab photos of running across a bridge which seems to be shaded by some glorious trees, that’s good, oh, and quite a lot of what looks suspiciously like a sports field. Hang on, I need to check average times now. Please let this be one that welcomes slower participants… OK, just checked, not going to lie, bit worried about this. It has quite a teeny turn out, between 50-70 each week, and although of course it will be ‘inclusive’ as all parkruns are, there aren’t enough regular participants to make me confident that there’ll be a cohort of others at my pace. Gulp. Oh well, I’m committed now. What is it they say, feel the fear and do it anyway. As long as there’s an amusing anecdote in it further down the line and access to a post parkrun coffee it’ll be fine. At least there’ll be less pressure on parking and a shorter queue at the cafe. … Eeek.
The day dawned, and off I went. No offence to Nottingham, but I’m really over the roundabouts now. There are a crazy amount of them en route, and I don’t find it a very nice drive, the road layouts are to me confusing, and there seem to be endless fly overs and re-routing. I don’t particularly like driving anyway. I did notice I went down remembrance road at one point, handy reminder for #dfyb (don’t forget your barcode) although it would have been a bit late for me by that point if I had forgotten. Don’t worry dear reader, I have loads of them, spares in the car, in various bags, my back pack and I wear the wrist band anyway. I have yet to experience the catastrophe of forgetting it, but I daresay it wil happen one day. When it does, I’ll have to pretend to make light of it, after all, you can still participate without it, but inside a little bit of me would die. Brave face outside, heartbroken within. I know it’s ridiculous, but it’s true, why else are there all those parkrun themed memes?
Precisely.
Anyway, I was ok in that respect, and following my satnav nicely. The annoying satnav voice confidently announced I’d reached my destination in due course. Oh.
Unfortunately I clearly had not. I drove on a bit though, and big relief, just a little further on, a humungous parkrun banner adorned Clifton Park. Phew, I was in the right place. All good!
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The sign was not only reassuring, because it meant I was in the right place, but it is welcoming too. It has the strap line walk/ jog/ run. Inclusive.
The sun was out, the park deserted, I went to explore.
The most immediately striking unexpected thing at this parkrun, was the presence of poultry. No really. I arrived, parked up, and then it was a case of ‘oooh, what strange sound is this?’ A rooster, sorry, that’s American isn’t it? Of course I mean a cockerel. How cool is that, definitely the calming morning sounds of hens waking up and scratching about. Further investigation revealed, or at least strongly suggested, the park is adjacent to some allotments, hence hens. I do like hens. I think that’s quite a fine USP for a parkrun location. Not as classy as having a parkrun peacock I suppose, I bet there’s a parkrun somewhere that has one, though admit I don’t know where for sure. There is a parkrun in Australia that has it’s own emu, Fluffy, Nambour parkrun. On reflection, I think an emu would be better than a peacock. Don’t get me wrong, peacocks look amazing, but they are scavengers. I spent some time working overseas, and have never quite got over the shock and repulsion of seeing a group of peacocks – what is the collective noun for them – oooh, found it an ostentation of peacocks (great choice of collective noun) scavenging and squabbling over the putrefying carcass of a long dead donkey, picking maggots out of it’s liquefying eye sockets. Couldn’t see them in quite the same light thereafter, even if I do fully appreciate that is a useful ecological function! Shudder, the very thought makes me heave. Lets have a lovely picture of fluffy obliging with a parkrun pic pose instead – personally I wouldn’t stand quite that close to him/her, but not my call! I’d certainly be stopping to take pictures of Fluffy en route though, mind you, I have been known to stop and take photos of almost anything on parkrun routes, if the mood takes me.
A morning cluck of awakening hens, punctuated with a cock crow on arrival was a new and pleasing parkrun experience for me. Of course, one must always be prepared for the unexpected at parkrun. Not as unexpected as inadvertently landing on a shark whilst out surfing say – which has happened, but things that aren’t quite the norm based on your previous parkrun experiences. Having said that, I have seen a volunteer eaten by a shark at Graves junior parkrun so it could happen again elsewhere I suppose… Mr Blobby was scarier though, and more unexpected another time. About the shark thing though, I thought the guy was just leading the warm up at juniors, but on reflection, I wonder if he was actually trying to escape. Maybe with the benefit of hindsight we should have assisted. Oh well. Life and learn. You can also be swallowed by hippos apparently. That’s happened too. Be careful out there.
I love that all parkruns are the same but different, and have twists on familiar themes. For example, did you know that Bedworth parkrun had a guest artist at their parkrun this week, who did sketches in real time (a bit like a court reporter artist but without the suspicion around criminal intent with respect to those attending) and got a photographer’s credit from Bedworth parkrun for doing so. Her pictures are epic! Love these, so wish I could do something like that.
Anyway, I may be going a tad off topic here, back to Clifton parkrun, Nottingham. As well as the pleasing (and soothing) presence of hens, there was ample free parking, and an old-style municipal pavilion. Actually, not old style, but actually from the olden days of my more extreme youth. Any number of similarly designed building would have popped up at playing fields back in the day. I couldn’t decide if this made me nostalgic or induced trauma, hard to tell the difference sometimes. The building was old but well maintained and excellent facilities. I can report bicycle parking, loos, and an abundance of instructional signs inside and out. This covered how to open doors, what not to do – they really don’t like ball games here, even on the tennis courts apparently which seems harsh. There was also a warning about not over-staying or you’d be locked in the park overnight. I was hoping very much my parkrun time would be fast enough to avoid that, but you if not, I wouldn’t be able to claim I hadn’t been warned about this eventuality in advance!
