I appear to have lost my taste for parkrun tourism. It happened last February too, when I ran an unprecedented four consecutive weeks at Wimbledon. This year has been slightly less dramatic, featuring Banstead Woods, Wimbledon, Hilly Fields (as a volunteer) and Fulham Palace, but the effect is the same. Four weeks, and no new-to-me venues.
I had been planning some tourism for this morning. My plan called for an 11 mile run featuring an all out parkrun PB attempt. I scanned the list of new-to-me parkruns and settled on Southsea. Flat, firm and, weather permitting, very suitable for a PB attempt. And with scope for additional miles afterwards. It was perfect.
Perfect, that is, until I received a text from a friend bowing out of our tentative Friday evening running plans and innocently asking where I was parkrunning on Saturday.
“Southsea”, I said.
“Oh”, she said, “too far away for me.”
“Hmmm”, I thought, “Early start and a solo long run or lie in and company?”
“Would Fulham Palace be doable?”
And just like that, in the space of five minutes and without a second thought, I ditched my planned tourism and opted for a local repeat. And I loved every minute of it.