After a long hiatus caused by Covid-19, parkrun returns.
Last night, I dug out my running stuff and tried it on for size. It’s a good job it’s stretchy, that’s all I can say. The fabric of one leg of my running leggings is degrading. I could probably do with a new pair.
This morning, I put my running stuff on while the cat miaowed silently at me. He was upset that I had stopped stroking him. To be fair, he’d gone fighty-bitey.
In a change from my usual laziness, I walked to parkrun – the walk serves as a warm-up, and I need all the help I can get. I haven’t been out running in earnest for a long time. The last time I ran parkrun was the end of February.
They changed the course a little to avoid the football pitch and having people run in both directions through a gate. I think these changes worked well.
I struggled round the course, walking for a lot of it. The marshals were fabulous, cheering me on and giving me encouragement and advice. At one point, I got so much applause and cheering I felt like I was winning a gold medal!
My time was my slowest ever parkrun even slower than Sheringham, with its evil hill, which was my previous slowest time. Still, I went running, and, with the exception of next week, when I’ll be gallivanting off to the Big Smoke, it seems I have no excuse not to go out running again. I’ll see if I can do a run during the week instead. It all depends on how my legs are. Currently, they’re like jelly.
