It would be foolish to get up at four in the morning and drive 150 miles just to run a 5k run. So foolish in fact that I had discounted the possibility, and added Lincoln parkrun to my list of missed inaugurals.
But then a chance conversation with another parkrun tourist (one who took shameless advantage of my injury-induced parkrun absence to overtake me on the inaugural table) gave me the spur I needed. She had also looked at travelling to Lincoln for the parkrun, but is restricted to public transport, and so couldn’t make it there in time.
I did what any slightly obsessive parkrun tourist would do and offered her a lift. Sorted.
I dutifully made my sacrifices to the Gods of parkrun tourism (I couldn’t think what to get them, but apparently they were satisfied by luring my cat away for 36 hours without leaving a note, thus condemning me to a sleepless night picturing him trapped in a shed or lying in a ditch), set my alarm for disgusting o’clock and set off.
It was a triumph. The roads were clear, the company was excellent, the course is lovely*, I managed my first post-injury 5k run (no walking) and I even managed to snaffle a photograph with @parkruntom. I also caught up with some of my more northern parkrun friends, enjoyed a cup of tea in the Bowls Club and finally put a face to Peter Samuelson, who is (with Danny Norman) second equal on the list of inaugural hunters.
*Three twisty, turny tarmac laps which mix up open park and woodland sections nicely and which have alternating narrow and wide sections which will add a certain tactical challenge to anyone on the hunt for a PB. Thank you to all those who worked so hard to make it happen.