I used to be so good. I’d get home from my parkrun and have a report written before the day was out. So how have I let nearly three months go by without a word? It’s not as if I haven’t been parkrunning. Since Hatfield Forest parkrun, I’ve run Tilgate as part of a longer run, skipped a week, volunteered at Queen Elizabeth, volunteered at Gladstone in the presence of a global parkrun record holder, celebrated a birthday at Walsall Arboretum complete with fancy dress*, hammered the last mile of Didcot, been ticked off the list at Great Lines, gone on tour to Bryn Bach, enjoyed a Cowell Club rendezvous at Bracknell, skipped another week, volunteered at Barking, and popped across to Raphael for a second Cowell Club meetup. All bar one of them have been in the company of people I know (or who know me) and no two have been the same. Community galore, more cake than you can shake a stick at, hills, flats, trail and tarmac.