Colwick Parkrun: A Tailrunner's Tale

I am a huge advocate of Parkrun and enthusiastically talk about it with everyone I know, and some I don't. Before going anywhere at the weekend, the first port of call is to check out where the nearest Parkrun is and to plan the usually quite over-complicated logistics of fitting it into my travel plans. I can proudly say I've introduced several tens of people to the free, weekly timed 5k run, many of whom have become as addicted as I am.

What I love is that Parkrun is entirely inclusive. From the club runner pushing the course record, the person aiming only for survival on their first 5k, runners pushing buggies, excited racing dogs, children crying whilst keen no-nonsense dads 'gently encourage' them, other children running so quickly that their parents don't stand a chance of keeping up and everything in between.

Negative Split: Check. Next: World Domination

Yesterday I was in a state of pure delirium. I wandered up my driveway tapping frantically at my Garmin₁ to see what I had just run. It had felt good, but usually when a run feels good it is because I have pootled along without much effort .  This felt different. The data looked promising, but I stopped myself getting too excited until it was uploaded, then I could view it and analyse it properly and be absolutely sure it was good. Until you can see numbers on a computer screen, it doesn’t count.

54321 2013

I have a rule about local races. I never enter anything that you could just run yourself from your own doorstep.  After three years of not entering the 5-4-3-2-1 under my previously stated rule, I was aghast to learn that the route of the 21k (and longer) actually takes you through secret and usually inaccessible areas.  I listened eagerly as Liz regaled me with tales of hidden castles and grand estates on the way home from Southampton Parkrun last week. Whilst still on a post-parkrun high, I signed up.