Yesterday evening, I braved Friday night rush hour traffic in London (ugh!) to drive up north to the wilds of Lincolnshire where I had begged a bed for the night from a marvellous friend of mine.*
The traffic was as revolting as I expected, but the extremely scrummy dinner* and good company went a long to making up for it, as did the cup of tea in the morning* and the lift to King’s Lynn parkrun*.
King’s Lynn parkrun #1. Three brand new parkruns in as many weeks. I could make it 4 in 4 if I go to Nonsuch Park next week, but tempting though that is, I think I shall save Nonsuch Park for the 24th, as it’s nice and local and I have to be in Windsor on the 25th for a half marathon [aaaaargh!].
So. King’s Lynn. It’s a flat, three lap course on wide tarmac paths. I wasn’t sure about the layout of the course when I looked at in on the map, as it includes an out-and-back stretch with a 180 degree turn at the end.
Turns out that this is actually one of the nicest stretches of the course, not because it’s the most picturesque bit (that would be the river with the ducks, or possibly the Red Mount Chapel or the rather impressive Gannock Arch).
But the out-and-back section gives sociable people the chance to wave at / encourage / be encouraged by their friends / runners that they chatted to at the start. And it gives competitive people the chance to see whether they are gaining on / being caught up by their arch nemesis / nemeses.
The volunteers were efficient, encouraging and friendly, and two even laughed at my
witty banal banter.
The runners I spoke to were an interesting mix. There was a nervous first-timer who looked as though she was about to bolt and who was convinced that she would come last. (Sub 27. Wow!). There was a sub 20 veteran who’d run at Norwich, Milton Keynes and Cambridge. There was an old hand from Brighton, resplendent in her 50 club t-shirt, who had promised her brother-in-law(?) that if he got a parkrun going in King’s Lynn she would come up to its launch. There were two local councillors who had been involved in getting the parkrun up and running, and there was a budding nomad who has only a few more runs to go until he’s on the table of doom.
After which it was back to my friend’s for lunch* and fresh-out-of-the-oven flapjacks.* And I even got a goodie bag full of flapjacks to see me safely home.*
Life is good.
*Thank you, marvellous friend.