To celebrate their 10th and my 6th anniversaries, I went back to my roots this morning for a muddy lollop around Wimbledon Common parkrun.
Thank you, thank you, thank you Cathy White for organising Janathon, without which I might never have heard of parkrun and certainly wouldn’t have laid the groundwork of my parkrun habit.
Thank you, thank you, thank you Susan Jones for telling me that there was a parkrun near me (and for taking one of my all-time favourite race photos, though that’s another story).
Thank you, thank you, thank you Sandhya Drew for taking the fear out of that first parkrun (and for dragging me to Malahide and more recently for brandishing your cattle prod to make me knuckle down and look for a job).
And thank you, thank you, thank you to all the Wimbledon Common parkrunners who welcome me each and every time I pay a visit home.
…my inner competitor made a bid for freedom.
About 30secs after posting yesterday’s blog about doing a short recovery run today, I remembered that I’d been meaning to check out parkruns. I found out about them from Steve and Katy Run, who found out about them from There’s a six pack under here. I registered yesterday afternoon and, barcode in hand, headed off bright and early to my local run.
As it was my first run, I wasn’t quite sure what to expect. What did we have to do with the barcodes? What was the route? How many people would turn up? Would I be the slowest one there? Loitering with intent, I overheard two women talking. One was obviously a first-timer like me. I knew this because she was asking What did we have to do with the barcodes? What was the route? How many people…
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