The daffodils are blooming and Xmas and New Year already seem like dim and distant memories... yet it is still only the first week of January.
Since moving house last year, blogging has taken a back seat to the long emails I write regularly to my mum to let her know how I am getting on. Exercise has also taken a back seat (most recently to an unhealthy preoccupation with the vast selection of entertainment on Netflix). I intend to remedy both of these situations.
I will still email my mum (and just try and tear me away from season two of An American Horror Story) but I will make time to sit at my computer and write. My husband has entered me into my first triathlon (not counting the tandem triathlon that we did together back in Shropshire) which is a huge motivation to get out running, cycling and swimming... so that takes care of the exercise deficiency.
I have already completed my first timed 5K run of the year (although I'm having to pinch myself that that actually happened) and although it was, what some would say, a pitifully slow 38 minute 5K, it was still 5K and it was a start. This blog post is probably the literary equivalent of a 38 minute 5K, but again, it is a start.
Happy New Year x
Showing posts with label parkrun. Show all posts
Showing posts with label parkrun. Show all posts
Friday, 8 January 2016
Monday, 15 September 2014
Swindon parkrun
This weekend I went to visit my friend Rose in her new home in a village on the outskirts of Swindon. While we were there, my husband and I decided it would be a nice idea to do the Swindon parkrun. We set off to the venue at Lydiard Park without much of an idea what it would be like and with an added wildcard in the form of our two children aged 6 and 4 years who we hoped we might encourage to run at least part of the way.
I should probably mention that due to a packing oversight, our plans were nearly scuppered. I had failed to put my shorts in the overnight bag. I don't know if gratitude or embarrassment dominated my emotions when my friend's lovely husband let me borrow a pair of his and they fit perfectly!
The park was beautiful and it was obvious that the parkrun itself was much bigger than we were used to. Over four hundred runners congregated at the start.
The route consisted of two laps and the plan was that my husband would race off as fast as he could leaving me to cajole the children into taking part with whatever bribes I had at my disposal. We would cover as much ground as possible and when my husband finished in as close to 25minutes as he could manage, he would come back for the kids whilst I ran for all I was worth in the hope of at least finishing somewhere around the 40 minute mark. We had looked at previous results for this parkrun and it seemed that there were a number of participants who took a similar amount of time to complete it. I would not be alone.
The children were very keen to run at first but waiting around for the race to start got them a bit agitated. Then when daddy took his place in the crowd with the other 25 minute pace runners leaving us at the back, they were grumpy and agitated. No amount of encouragement or persuasion could get them back on side.
Reluctantly they came with me as the crowd edged forwards to cross the start line. It was wonderful watching all those people with a common purpose running off into the distant, giving their best. I longed to be amongst them but I was being held firmly back by two little monsters dragging their feet and continuing to moan that they wanted daddy.
I had to accept that they were not going to be obliging. They were not going to run and that was that. I settled for a slow walk. They would happily run off the path to explore but I could not get them to channel that energy into a faster walk in the direction I wanted them to go.
I did consider giving up and turning back and waiting for my husband to finish his race in one of the play areas but we'd started, so we plodded onwards. There was always the slim chance that they'd decide it might be fun to run.
Far from a having a change of heart that incorporated more speed, my little boy dug his heels in, started to cry and said I'm not growed up enuff for runnin'. At this point, I picked the poor little soul up and carried him on my back. My daughter had the occasional burst of speed in between moaning and my son whooped with delight and waved his little legs around as I struggled to run with him on my back to keep up with her. I was beginning to wish that the borrowed shorts had not fitted and I'd had to back out.
The marshals were lovely. I think they must have felt my pain and were very encouraging.
Before long, we were being lapped by the elite athletes chasing their sub 20 minute finish times. The paths were very narrrow so I now had the added difficulty of trying to keep my daughter tucked into the lefthand side whilst the herds of lean, determined runners thundered past us. It was inspiring to see them racing by but nerve wracking too. I feared that my daughter might stray from her position of safety into the path of one of these unstoppables. The momentum of even a glancing collision would have been enough to send her flying in a tangle of long blonde hair and longer skinny legs. Thankfully, this did not happen and the pace of the runners lapping us was becoming noticeably more sedate as time went by.
I don't know how much distance we had covered when my husband on his second lap caught up with us on our first (he suggested about 2 kilometres). I urged him to continue to the finish but he could see how much I was struggling under the weight of our son and he admitted to having a twinge of pain in his leg that he didn't want to risk aggravating as he was due to take part in a triathlon the following weekend. He took over babysitting duty and gave me the freedom to run.
If his estimate of distance was correct, he only had about 1 kilometre to go before the finish. Having been on target for a 25/26 minute time, he finally made it across the line in 35 minutes. Meanwhile, I was running like a woman with a mission.
To begin with, I had the company of the runners on their second lap hoping to achieve times not much faster than my own personal best. I felt quite comfortable running with them but then we reached the parting of the ways. As they all took the left turn to the final push before home, I took the right and started my second lap. Rather than feeling disheartened (or tempted to to slip home unnoticed with the left turners) I had the hugely motivating sight ahead of me of the back runners - two ladies I had noticed earlier both wearing bright red T shirts and following a minute walk/ minute run plan. I knew I could catch them up and I did. I overtook them and locked my sights on the next person ahead of me.
I have been working on my downhill technique - letting myself go with gravity doing the hardwork rather than waving my arms and trying to pull the brakes on to feel in control. Coming up was a downhill stretch followed by an ascent. I overtook the next group of people on the downhill which felt quite liberating and easily passed the people who were walking up the hill.
I think some of these people must have wondered where on earth I had come from. I was certainly shaking things up at the back. I did nod and say good morning as I passed but I really wanted to tell them how much I admired them, how fantastically they were doing. These people were not great runners, yet here they were taking on this 3 mile course at their own pace and achieving their own personal goals. It is SO hard to say well done without sounding patronising.
It felt like no time before I was back at the fork to turn left for home. I didn't quite manage to catch up with a tiny little lad who had been riding on his dad's shoulders when he first came into my field of vision and was now running like the wind towards the finish line under his own steam. It was wonderful to see him go and it reminded me of my own two little ones who were now no doubt having a great time in the play area with memories of their own half hearted efforts fading into oblivion.
I finished in position 430 out of 449 in a time of 42:01. Hopefully, the next time I visit my friend Rose, I'll get another try, without the handicap of a first lap with two stubbornly reluctant children.
I love being part of the parkrun community and would definitely recommend it to anyone.
I should probably mention that due to a packing oversight, our plans were nearly scuppered. I had failed to put my shorts in the overnight bag. I don't know if gratitude or embarrassment dominated my emotions when my friend's lovely husband let me borrow a pair of his and they fit perfectly!
The park was beautiful and it was obvious that the parkrun itself was much bigger than we were used to. Over four hundred runners congregated at the start.
The route consisted of two laps and the plan was that my husband would race off as fast as he could leaving me to cajole the children into taking part with whatever bribes I had at my disposal. We would cover as much ground as possible and when my husband finished in as close to 25minutes as he could manage, he would come back for the kids whilst I ran for all I was worth in the hope of at least finishing somewhere around the 40 minute mark. We had looked at previous results for this parkrun and it seemed that there were a number of participants who took a similar amount of time to complete it. I would not be alone.
The children were very keen to run at first but waiting around for the race to start got them a bit agitated. Then when daddy took his place in the crowd with the other 25 minute pace runners leaving us at the back, they were grumpy and agitated. No amount of encouragement or persuasion could get them back on side.
Reluctantly they came with me as the crowd edged forwards to cross the start line. It was wonderful watching all those people with a common purpose running off into the distant, giving their best. I longed to be amongst them but I was being held firmly back by two little monsters dragging their feet and continuing to moan that they wanted daddy.
I had to accept that they were not going to be obliging. They were not going to run and that was that. I settled for a slow walk. They would happily run off the path to explore but I could not get them to channel that energy into a faster walk in the direction I wanted them to go.
I did consider giving up and turning back and waiting for my husband to finish his race in one of the play areas but we'd started, so we plodded onwards. There was always the slim chance that they'd decide it might be fun to run.
Far from a having a change of heart that incorporated more speed, my little boy dug his heels in, started to cry and said I'm not growed up enuff for runnin'. At this point, I picked the poor little soul up and carried him on my back. My daughter had the occasional burst of speed in between moaning and my son whooped with delight and waved his little legs around as I struggled to run with him on my back to keep up with her. I was beginning to wish that the borrowed shorts had not fitted and I'd had to back out.
The marshals were lovely. I think they must have felt my pain and were very encouraging.
Before long, we were being lapped by the elite athletes chasing their sub 20 minute finish times. The paths were very narrrow so I now had the added difficulty of trying to keep my daughter tucked into the lefthand side whilst the herds of lean, determined runners thundered past us. It was inspiring to see them racing by but nerve wracking too. I feared that my daughter might stray from her position of safety into the path of one of these unstoppables. The momentum of even a glancing collision would have been enough to send her flying in a tangle of long blonde hair and longer skinny legs. Thankfully, this did not happen and the pace of the runners lapping us was becoming noticeably more sedate as time went by.
I don't know how much distance we had covered when my husband on his second lap caught up with us on our first (he suggested about 2 kilometres). I urged him to continue to the finish but he could see how much I was struggling under the weight of our son and he admitted to having a twinge of pain in his leg that he didn't want to risk aggravating as he was due to take part in a triathlon the following weekend. He took over babysitting duty and gave me the freedom to run.
If his estimate of distance was correct, he only had about 1 kilometre to go before the finish. Having been on target for a 25/26 minute time, he finally made it across the line in 35 minutes. Meanwhile, I was running like a woman with a mission.
 |
| Photograph by Martyn Joyce |
To begin with, I had the company of the runners on their second lap hoping to achieve times not much faster than my own personal best. I felt quite comfortable running with them but then we reached the parting of the ways. As they all took the left turn to the final push before home, I took the right and started my second lap. Rather than feeling disheartened (or tempted to to slip home unnoticed with the left turners) I had the hugely motivating sight ahead of me of the back runners - two ladies I had noticed earlier both wearing bright red T shirts and following a minute walk/ minute run plan. I knew I could catch them up and I did. I overtook them and locked my sights on the next person ahead of me.
I have been working on my downhill technique - letting myself go with gravity doing the hardwork rather than waving my arms and trying to pull the brakes on to feel in control. Coming up was a downhill stretch followed by an ascent. I overtook the next group of people on the downhill which felt quite liberating and easily passed the people who were walking up the hill.
I think some of these people must have wondered where on earth I had come from. I was certainly shaking things up at the back. I did nod and say good morning as I passed but I really wanted to tell them how much I admired them, how fantastically they were doing. These people were not great runners, yet here they were taking on this 3 mile course at their own pace and achieving their own personal goals. It is SO hard to say well done without sounding patronising.
It felt like no time before I was back at the fork to turn left for home. I didn't quite manage to catch up with a tiny little lad who had been riding on his dad's shoulders when he first came into my field of vision and was now running like the wind towards the finish line under his own steam. It was wonderful to see him go and it reminded me of my own two little ones who were now no doubt having a great time in the play area with memories of their own half hearted efforts fading into oblivion.
I finished in position 430 out of 449 in a time of 42:01. Hopefully, the next time I visit my friend Rose, I'll get another try, without the handicap of a first lap with two stubbornly reluctant children.
I love being part of the parkrun community and would definitely recommend it to anyone.
 |
| Photograph by Rose |
Monday, 3 June 2013
A Sporty End to Half Term
I was sad yesterday that half term was coming to an end - until my husband reminded me that I should never be sad that our life is moving on because we have so much to look forward to and enjoy. He was right.
It was a really good half term week.
Two of my girls spent some time away in Portugal with their father. I missed them but I am so glad that they are getting to experience things that I can't offer them - expensive hotels, free flowing champagne and designer clothes shopping.
My time was spent in a way very far removed from that sort of lifestyle - gardening gloves, a trowel, a bucket for my weeds and barbecued veggie sausages and burgers - but I loved it. The garden is looking better than it ever has and it has been so nice to have a bit of good weather to really appreciate it.
On Thursday night, I made sure that there was no trace of mud under my nails and got dressed up to go out for a meal with my husband. For my birthday back in April, my daughter Ivy gave me a gift voucher for a meal at the gastro pub she works in. This was the first opportunity we'd had to take advantage of that. My eldest daughter came round to babysit the little ones and her boyfriend, a retained firefighter, offered to be our taxi so that we could both have a drink. Unfortunately, as we were due to leave, his alerter sounded which meant someone somewhere had a fire that needed extinguishing. Obviously this had a higher priority than our lift so we made our own way to the pub. The fire emergency turned out to be two bins ablaze. Easily dealt with - no casualties! Despite being restricted with our alcohol intake, we had a lovely evening with amazing food: Mushroom and Shropshire Blue Cheese Wellington with Spring Onion Mash, French Beans and Béchamel sauce followed by Hot Chocolate Brownie with Raspberry Coulis and Vanilla Ice-cream. My mouth is watering at the memory.
I was up early on Saturday morning to take part in my local Parkrun. This has become something of a habit now and I can't recommend it enough. A record breaking 204 runners took part (although I believe one of those may have been a dog that should never have been registered!) My husband took on a marshalling role. I wasn't sure how I would feel having to run past him; red faced, sweaty and possibly struggling badly. I always want him to see me as a lithe athlete (a me that only really exists in my dreams). My worries were unfounded. His cheery smile and words of encouragement were lovely and I believed him when he said he was proud of me.
It was a really good half term week.
Two of my girls spent some time away in Portugal with their father. I missed them but I am so glad that they are getting to experience things that I can't offer them - expensive hotels, free flowing champagne and designer clothes shopping.
My time was spent in a way very far removed from that sort of lifestyle - gardening gloves, a trowel, a bucket for my weeds and barbecued veggie sausages and burgers - but I loved it. The garden is looking better than it ever has and it has been so nice to have a bit of good weather to really appreciate it.
On Thursday night, I made sure that there was no trace of mud under my nails and got dressed up to go out for a meal with my husband. For my birthday back in April, my daughter Ivy gave me a gift voucher for a meal at the gastro pub she works in. This was the first opportunity we'd had to take advantage of that. My eldest daughter came round to babysit the little ones and her boyfriend, a retained firefighter, offered to be our taxi so that we could both have a drink. Unfortunately, as we were due to leave, his alerter sounded which meant someone somewhere had a fire that needed extinguishing. Obviously this had a higher priority than our lift so we made our own way to the pub. The fire emergency turned out to be two bins ablaze. Easily dealt with - no casualties! Despite being restricted with our alcohol intake, we had a lovely evening with amazing food: Mushroom and Shropshire Blue Cheese Wellington with Spring Onion Mash, French Beans and Béchamel sauce followed by Hot Chocolate Brownie with Raspberry Coulis and Vanilla Ice-cream. My mouth is watering at the memory.
I was up early on Saturday morning to take part in my local Parkrun. This has become something of a habit now and I can't recommend it enough. A record breaking 204 runners took part (although I believe one of those may have been a dog that should never have been registered!) My husband took on a marshalling role. I wasn't sure how I would feel having to run past him; red faced, sweaty and possibly struggling badly. I always want him to see me as a lithe athlete (a me that only really exists in my dreams). My worries were unfounded. His cheery smile and words of encouragement were lovely and I believed him when he said he was proud of me.
 |
| Photograph taken by a Parkrun Volunteer |
The following day, I had the opportunity to show him the same support he'd shown me as he took part in the Cheshire Sprint Triathlon.
It was a very well organised event and the weather was kind making it a pleasure to be a spectator. I have my personal goal when it comes to running (to complete 5K in less than 30minutes) and he has his: to complete the Triathlon in the time it would take the Brownlee brothers to do it one after the other. He completed the 400m swim (in an open air brine pool), 23K bike ride and 5K run in 1hour and 27minutes. I did a quick Google search to try and calculate the combined Brownlee bros time - but failed! Regardless of whether or not he succeeded in his goal, he did an amazing race and I am a little bit in awe of his accomplishment.
The little ones had a great time, mostly because there was a playground for them to explore but they also got behind the whole 'cheering for daddy' thing. It was very sweet hearing them both shouting "Run faster daddy" and "You can win daddy". His actual position was about halfway down the field of runners but as he crossed the Finish Line, Addy shouted excitedly, "I knew it - Daddy winned!!" She proudly wore his finishers medal for a while and to all of us who love him, he is definitely a winner and an inspiration.
Addy had now decided that she wants to do a Junior triathlon when she is seven. That gives us two years to get the stabilisers off her bike and lose the arm bands!
Monday, 20 May 2013
It doesn't always have to be a PB
Since I started taking part in Telford Parkrun (a not for profit organisation arranging free to enter, timed 5K runs around a local park), my finish time has been steadily getting quicker. It is a great feeling to come away each week with a new Personal Best which is edging ever closer to my goal of completing the course in under 30 minutes.
It stands to reason that you cannot maintain this improvement indefinitely- you'd end up finishing before you even started - but this Saturday, I thought I would be in for a good time.
I had not been out running since completing the Market Drayton 10K the previous Sunday and I was really keen to get back out and see what I could manage over the shorter distance. Stupidly, I thought 5K would feel easy having now ran twice that much. I was very wrong.
Five kilometres may only be half of 10 kilometres but it is still 3.1 miles - which is 3.1 miles more than I would ever have imagined being able to run before starting my beginners training 6 months ago. (Lets be generous and say 3 miles more - I probably could have managed the 0.1!)
I started off really well. My daughter and I jogged from the car park to the start (first time we'd ever even contemplated doing that!) so we were well warmed up and ready. The first part of the course is a long downhill stretch and even with the uphill parts that followed, I averaged a comfortably less than 10minute mile pace. I was well on target, not just for a new personal best but for my ultimate sub 30 minute goal.
Unfortunately, things started to go wrong.
My legs felt fine, my breathing was OK but my stomach felt knotted and my back and shoulders were tired and achey. I tried to ignore it all and power on and sometimes I succeeded, keeping pace with runners in front of me. But it was a struggle. A quick look at my running watch was my undoing.
My watch is set to tell me how far I have run, the time it has taken and my average pace at the end of each completed mile. It became clear that not only was my goal slipping out of reach with each laboured step, but I wasn't going to achieve a new personal best either. I lost heart.
The course consists of a two laps, a long one and a shorter one. Cruelly, you run past the finish twice before you cross the line and even more cruelly, there is a steep incline just beyond the finish. I passed the finish line for the second time, witnessing competitors sprinting home to claim their best time (the elite athletes having long finished). I pushed myself up the hill and beyond, my motivation draining with each step. I thought about my daughter running behind me and wondered if she was feeling as bad as me. I stopped. I walked. I looked around and saw her some way away. I continued to walk and waited for her to catch up.
After a while, my daughter made up the ground between us and I resumed running with her. We both struggled, but we finished. I didn't feel great about it.
This was the thirteenth Parkrun in Telford. Maybe there is some truth in the unlucky connotation of the number 13. Due to a mix up with the start time of the race, the published results were wrong. It gave my daughter and I a time minutes more respectable than we deserved! They were later corrected but the error did have the effect of making me focus less on the importance of my time than I had been previously. It was like a sign - a warning even.
Fixating on getting a new personal best had been a key factor in me giving up and walking. I see now how idiotic that is. As lovely as it is to see real improvement, sometimes it is enough just to get round. No doubt I will have good days and bad days. I will celebrate the good days and bask in the glory of a new PB. I will celebrate the bad days too. As long as I give it all I have, it will always be a personal triumph.
It stands to reason that you cannot maintain this improvement indefinitely- you'd end up finishing before you even started - but this Saturday, I thought I would be in for a good time.
I had not been out running since completing the Market Drayton 10K the previous Sunday and I was really keen to get back out and see what I could manage over the shorter distance. Stupidly, I thought 5K would feel easy having now ran twice that much. I was very wrong.
Five kilometres may only be half of 10 kilometres but it is still 3.1 miles - which is 3.1 miles more than I would ever have imagined being able to run before starting my beginners training 6 months ago. (Lets be generous and say 3 miles more - I probably could have managed the 0.1!)
I started off really well. My daughter and I jogged from the car park to the start (first time we'd ever even contemplated doing that!) so we were well warmed up and ready. The first part of the course is a long downhill stretch and even with the uphill parts that followed, I averaged a comfortably less than 10minute mile pace. I was well on target, not just for a new personal best but for my ultimate sub 30 minute goal.
Unfortunately, things started to go wrong.
My legs felt fine, my breathing was OK but my stomach felt knotted and my back and shoulders were tired and achey. I tried to ignore it all and power on and sometimes I succeeded, keeping pace with runners in front of me. But it was a struggle. A quick look at my running watch was my undoing.
My watch is set to tell me how far I have run, the time it has taken and my average pace at the end of each completed mile. It became clear that not only was my goal slipping out of reach with each laboured step, but I wasn't going to achieve a new personal best either. I lost heart.
The course consists of a two laps, a long one and a shorter one. Cruelly, you run past the finish twice before you cross the line and even more cruelly, there is a steep incline just beyond the finish. I passed the finish line for the second time, witnessing competitors sprinting home to claim their best time (the elite athletes having long finished). I pushed myself up the hill and beyond, my motivation draining with each step. I thought about my daughter running behind me and wondered if she was feeling as bad as me. I stopped. I walked. I looked around and saw her some way away. I continued to walk and waited for her to catch up.
After a while, my daughter made up the ground between us and I resumed running with her. We both struggled, but we finished. I didn't feel great about it.
This was the thirteenth Parkrun in Telford. Maybe there is some truth in the unlucky connotation of the number 13. Due to a mix up with the start time of the race, the published results were wrong. It gave my daughter and I a time minutes more respectable than we deserved! They were later corrected but the error did have the effect of making me focus less on the importance of my time than I had been previously. It was like a sign - a warning even.
Fixating on getting a new personal best had been a key factor in me giving up and walking. I see now how idiotic that is. As lovely as it is to see real improvement, sometimes it is enough just to get round. No doubt I will have good days and bad days. I will celebrate the good days and bask in the glory of a new PB. I will celebrate the bad days too. As long as I give it all I have, it will always be a personal triumph.
Saturday, 2 March 2013
More ParkRunning
This morning I completed my second Parkrun.
It was one of those mornings when both little ones were still fast asleep so there was the promise of a luxurious (and rare) lie in. I cannot believe that the idea of getting up and running 5K was an alluring enough prospect for me to forgo said lie in - but such is the grip that the running bug has on me, it was.
The weather was a beautiful. The sort of weather that completely restores your faith in the possibility of spring. It was a bit fraught getting the little ones ready and out of the door but they had the promise of playing in one of the well equipped playgrounds that form part of Telford Town Park where we were headed.
My husband has an injury from falling off his bike (an absolutely stupid accident that would have been comedic had it not hurt him) so he was opting out of the run. My daughter's boyfriend was busy piling tons of rubble from a demolished wall into a skip. That left just me and my daughter to join the other participants - each driven to run for their own personal reasons and coming together to take part in this wonderfully friendly and relaxed event.
We ran.
I'm not going to say it was easy - it never is - but it was less of a struggle than the previous time when I was still recovering from a nasty cough and finding breathing a lot more difficult that it should have been. I was much more aware of the surroundings this time now that all my attention wasn't focused on gasping at much needed oxygen. It really is a lovely place to run, especially in the sunshine. I enjoyed the moment so much more. A quick glance at my watch showed me that we were making good time (for us!) which was very motivating. A final push at the end gave me a finish I was proud of in contrast to staggering over the line last time.
As you cross the line, you are handed a token which you have scanned with your own personal barcode a little further on. By some magic, this enables the Parkrun people to put your results up on the website. I was absolutely delighted to have knocked a whole 2 minutes off my time.
To put our achievement into perspective, I should probably share a slightly embarrassing story. My daughter and I were intrigued by a Walker who had joined the Parkrun. I'm not talking about a casual stroller, this was a man in sporty shorts with the strange hip rolling action of speed walkers. He was ahead of us at the start but it didn't seem too onerous a task to catch up and overtake him - after all, he was walking and we were running. This did not happen. For a while he was a steady distance ahead, tantalisingly close, but the distance started to open up. We were giving it all we had and he was charging away from us. Eventually, he disappeared from view. I'd like to think that this could be attributed to his athletic prowess and fantastic technique but I have to hold our plodding pace at least partly responsible!
My husband and two rosy cheeked children were there to greet and congratulate us at the finish. I loved that my little ones had got to play in the fresh air while we were running. There were no complaints from them when they were offered some additional playtime while my daughter and I went off to do a bit of shopping (seems a shame to be so close to a shopping centre and not take advantage!)
We bought ourselves a pair of running trousers each - slinky tight fitting ones instead of our tired old joggers. We are hoping that by dressing the part, we'll knock even more minutes off our Personal Bests!
It was one of those mornings when both little ones were still fast asleep so there was the promise of a luxurious (and rare) lie in. I cannot believe that the idea of getting up and running 5K was an alluring enough prospect for me to forgo said lie in - but such is the grip that the running bug has on me, it was.
The weather was a beautiful. The sort of weather that completely restores your faith in the possibility of spring. It was a bit fraught getting the little ones ready and out of the door but they had the promise of playing in one of the well equipped playgrounds that form part of Telford Town Park where we were headed.
My husband has an injury from falling off his bike (an absolutely stupid accident that would have been comedic had it not hurt him) so he was opting out of the run. My daughter's boyfriend was busy piling tons of rubble from a demolished wall into a skip. That left just me and my daughter to join the other participants - each driven to run for their own personal reasons and coming together to take part in this wonderfully friendly and relaxed event.
We ran.
I'm not going to say it was easy - it never is - but it was less of a struggle than the previous time when I was still recovering from a nasty cough and finding breathing a lot more difficult that it should have been. I was much more aware of the surroundings this time now that all my attention wasn't focused on gasping at much needed oxygen. It really is a lovely place to run, especially in the sunshine. I enjoyed the moment so much more. A quick glance at my watch showed me that we were making good time (for us!) which was very motivating. A final push at the end gave me a finish I was proud of in contrast to staggering over the line last time.
As you cross the line, you are handed a token which you have scanned with your own personal barcode a little further on. By some magic, this enables the Parkrun people to put your results up on the website. I was absolutely delighted to have knocked a whole 2 minutes off my time.
To put our achievement into perspective, I should probably share a slightly embarrassing story. My daughter and I were intrigued by a Walker who had joined the Parkrun. I'm not talking about a casual stroller, this was a man in sporty shorts with the strange hip rolling action of speed walkers. He was ahead of us at the start but it didn't seem too onerous a task to catch up and overtake him - after all, he was walking and we were running. This did not happen. For a while he was a steady distance ahead, tantalisingly close, but the distance started to open up. We were giving it all we had and he was charging away from us. Eventually, he disappeared from view. I'd like to think that this could be attributed to his athletic prowess and fantastic technique but I have to hold our plodding pace at least partly responsible!
My husband and two rosy cheeked children were there to greet and congratulate us at the finish. I loved that my little ones had got to play in the fresh air while we were running. There were no complaints from them when they were offered some additional playtime while my daughter and I went off to do a bit of shopping (seems a shame to be so close to a shopping centre and not take advantage!)
We bought ourselves a pair of running trousers each - slinky tight fitting ones instead of our tired old joggers. We are hoping that by dressing the part, we'll knock even more minutes off our Personal Bests!
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