Much as I love parkrun tourism, there are times when the lure of a lie in and the appeal of the familiar prove too strong to resist. So this morning, I found myself heading not to Banbury or Chichester or Southsea but to my home run on Wimbledon Common.
Returning to Wimbledon always feels like putting on a really comfy pair of slippers at the end of a long day. I may only have been there 20 times over the last three and half years (17 times as a runner and 3 times as a volunteer) but every time I go, I see the same faces; faces which were there at my first ever parkrun; faces which showed me the ropes the first time I dipped my toe into the waters of parkrun volunteering; faces that make this my home.
In fact, so omnipresent are some of the faces (at today’s parkrun, I spotted the young woman who pipped me to 198th place my very first time) that I found myself asking “Have they really been here every time I’ve stopped by?”.
For a fair number, the answer seems to be “Pretty much”.