On Saturday, I woke up determined to repay a little more of my viceathon debt. The plan? Find a local-ish parkrun. Run to it. Run round it. Run home.
After a bit of research, I decided that my best bet was Kingston. I knew the route to it (always a bonus when you’re as directionally challenged as I am), it’s nice and flat, and I would probably see a familiar face or two.
The run there was uneventful. 5 miles in just under 10min /mile pace, with just about enough time in hand to catch my breath before the parkrun started.
The familiar faces came in the form of David and Ingrid, who I’d met on the Iceland and Poland jaunts.
The course was as I remembered – out along the towpath, round a little loop and then back. Nice and flat, though a touch puddly after the recent April showers. Ingrid was kind enough to keep me company for the first half, before jetting off into the distance with enviable speed.
And then, at last, came the finish. As I approached the funnel, I heard a sound. Looking round, I saw a bunch of car keys lying on the towpath. Dilemma!* Do I stop to pick them up and run backwards to give them to their owner? Do I ignore them, run to the finish and then hope that their owner is still in sight? Or do I pause, shout “excuse me” until I get their attention, and then run full tilt for the line?
I opted for number three, and won a free cup of tea from the grateful parkrunner. Result!
After which, I ran most of the way home, though I did take advantage of a passing bus towards the end.
All of which knocked 12 miles off my viceathon debt, leaving me a mere 16.5 to clear.
*Okay, pedant. It’s not a dilemma because it has three options. But trilemma isn’t a word, and I can’t for the life of me think of an alternative. Sue me.
PS: Congratulations Ingrid!