The Return to Parkrun

It's a very long time since I dragged myself out of bed for the 9am Sconce Park Parkrun, May last year I think. Cricket, and the associated injuries, got in the way; I've never been able to run as quickly since I tore groin muscles in virtually my first cricket match!

But now, with the season over and needing some sort of focus for my cricket-free weekends, I made a decision to head there this morning. You know, I kind of took pride in being out of bed for exercise at 9 in the morning on a Saturday, and also the hustle and bustle in the park at that time, the colourful runners - all our local clubs seem to wear neon kit! - charging about warming up and stretching, the excitement of taking part in a timed race.

What I remembered I hadn't missed as soon as I started, was the running itself. I always run harder in race conditions, and after about 200 metres and the uphill past the fortification I was feeling tinges of regret. Tinges the weight of anvils.

I knew I was never going to get near my personal best of 22.56, but it was slightly dispiriting to be passed by 1) much older folk and 2) very small children.

Also I got lapped for the first time by Tango Holland, a local guy who runs about 100 marathons a year and who probably walks faster than I can sprint.

Hooray though! I finished in 26.34, in 36th place and despite being nearly 4 minutes off my best, 4th in my age group. Probably only 4 people in it. But I really enjoyed being out there again, so much so that I decided to go on a 20km bike ride straight after, pretending to be an Alf Tupper like hardman of the track and roads.

It made me feel good to get so much done by 1130am!

Si

All text and images copyright CreamCrackeredNature 24.09.16

Gale Force Parkrun

Whereas last week a freezing cold wind was blasting down the Newark Parkrun course from the North, this week it was a slightly warmer gale blustering in from the South.

And yes, there was a chiff chaff singing its heart out in the park again, this time over by the bank of trees overlooking Devon Pasture. I could hear it over the sound of Rev. Richard Coles interviewing Jason Donovan on Radio 4.

Parkrun is a strange event for me. Even after dragging myself out of bed at 8am, I swear I will always take it very easy and just trot round the 5km. But as soon as the hooter goes - a recent innovation - it's like the Pamplona Bull Run, and we descend down the hill like maniacs, myself among them. Today I was in the heady position of fourth place after a hundred metres, before the usual procession of elderly folk, young children, pushchair pushers and women being towed by dogs made their way past me.

Alright, I'm being a mite harsh on myself, although the dog thing is true. I came 16th in the end, in 24.08. Not too bad for the time of year, and luckily the wind was on our backs on the long second part of the lap.

What a wind it was! By the time I had cleared the finish and was sat at Rumbles with my tea and scone complete with concrete butter pat, the trees were bending, the flags were fluttering and a kite was flying in mesmerisingly crazy way.

That inspired me. I thought I would try and take a few photographs - a still medium - to illustrate a moving one, namely wind. They could have turned out far better, but there just weren't enough billowing plastic bags to chase.

Which is a good thing, really.

Si

Windswept at the start

The agonising (for me) finishing drag

Kite striving to escape earthly bonds

Sconce Park flag

Town hall. The lion at left is a very mangey specimen

Church flag wildly a-flutter

Holly tree bends in the wind

Parkrun Fun

I love doing Parkrun...afterwards...

The problem is the beginning. Doing Parkrun involves getting up insanely early for a Saturday when I've just come off shift. It means warming uo with my eyes still half closed. It means a freezing cycle to Sconce Park where I can never make the speed trap register my existence. It means loosening up a the park feeling slightly foolish among the real club pros in expensive shoes and running tights.

The problem is also the during. The insane fast start down the hill, then my legs starting to feel leaden on the steep drag up to the circuit. The icy chicken wire bridge, the slog through the wood and the boggy bark path, the dreaded out of rhythm stairs that people slip over on. The muddy turns I fall over on. Being passed by older people than me. The final drag up to the finish line, being overtaken by flashy sprint finishers WHO I END UP DESPISING.

But yes, afterwards is fantastic, once I've got over that line, and handed my token over while doubled over trying to get my breath back. I have a cup of tea at Rumbles, sometimes a sconce too while regaling twitter of my rubbish athletic feats. The sense of achievement that I've taken part in a 5km cross country race while everyone else is sleeping. The joy of letting my muscles rest before heading home.

Today I was 25th in a time of 24.25, miles better than my last slog but a minute and a half off my best. 106 folk finished behind me. I was fourth in my age group yet again. But it was a great morning to be out, despite the misty grey climate. Such a good event, best community activty to happen in this town in a long long time.

Si

Pre start limbering and mingling

Gathering by the birches

The hideous finishing drag

Post race child labour

Parkrun Times

These are photographs from the last few weeks.

Parkrun is a fabulous event, free, well run and a reason not to sleep in of a Saturday morning.

Of course, it is painful too, Newark is a hard course with the soggy bark path, and the horrific final drag up to the finish. This morning after a comparatively slow 24.26 I felt like death.

I really needed my cup of Rumbles tea!

Rainy day start

Wind was getting up that day

Finish from Rumbles

I'd already finished for once

The killer final drag

Today's start

Today's finish

Some of the more blatant cheating you get at Parkrun