Category: Parkrun

Running: How a change of scenery can make all the difference.

If you’ve read my blog for any amount of time you’ll already be aware that I love running. It’s something I’ve done for most of my life and the older I get, the more kind of evangelical I can feel about it. Running clears my mind while also testing me to my limits. There’s a lot to love about that, as far as I’m concerned.

I’ve written quite a bit about running; from tips, to accounts of races and even reviews of books on the subject. Recently though, I got to thinking about motivation; what gets me out, what I enjoy the most, what keeps me going when I’m exhausted or even just not feeling quite right.

I didn’t come up with a whole host of factors, to be honest. In the main it’s sheer bloody-mindedness that keeps me going. I set a goal and refuse to give up. However, one thing I have realised is what a difference a change of scenery can make.

Essentially, I’m a creature of habit. I’m usually happy just running around various routes where I live. However, I’ve come to realise that the odd change of scenery can be quite inspiring too and nowadays it’s the kind of thing that gets me genuinely excited about going for a run.

I’m lucky with where I live. There are plenty of places where you can go for a reasonably quiet run and not have too many obstacles – gangs of teenagers, yappy dogs – to avoid. And if you like hills, then you’ll find plenty where I am! I can’t say I’ve always been a fan, but the more I put myself through it with those hills, the more I enjoy the challenge. But sometimes, the same few routes can get a bit monotonous.

A few years ago I started to do Parkruns and I enjoyed the change of scenery, even if the trails weren’t the most fun for me. It was at a local country park called Oakwell Hall, which I knew well anyway. But even though there are a few Parkruns local to me, I’ve still only ever done the one. I think it’s just the thought of getting up early on a Saturday and the drive to get there that keeps me away.

What really inspired me to seek out different places to run was taking my running gear on holiday when we went to Majorca about 6 years ago. Again, I knew the place fairly well. It was Puerta Pollensa and we’d been there a few times before. Having watched loads of cyclists setting off from our hotel every morning, I got to wondering what it would be like to get out and explore a bit, rather than just sitting around the pool. And so, one year I took my gear and went out midway through our week there.

It was an absolute game changer! I remember that it unusually hot and that the sky was incredibly blue with not a cloud to spoil it. It was April, but felt more like a hot summer’s day. I only ran for about 4 miles – in the end the heat got to me – but it felt wonderful. I could gaze up at the mountains as I went and take in the early Spring flowers that were out in force. For the first few miles I didn’t give a single thought to pace or how my body felt. And so I decided that I’d make this a regular holiday thing and subsequently managed a couple of more runs in Puerta Pollensa.

Since then, I’ve tried to add some occasional variety to my routes both at home and on holiday and it always inspires me. I’ve been to a few different places locally, exploring bits of other towns and villages and I always find that the change of scene concentrates my mind a little more. I often take photos on the way though, so it also slows me down a bit.

Further holidays have meant different runs too, some more challenging than others!

We usually head down to North Wales early in the summer holidays and running there is always a test as it’s just incredibly hilly. The scenery is amazing and there’s the added bonus of ending up on a beautiful beach, but when I’m dragging myself up those hills it’s hard to reconcile the sense of challenge against the feeling of liquid legs and a pounding heart. Heading off the roads and on to the beach; hearing the noise of the waves, passing the sand dunes and feeling the slight give of the sand under your feet is pretty special though.

I usually run 6 mile loop when I’m down there. It takes in 6 big steep hills (I so want to call them mountains!) as well as the downside to a few of them too, which is always a blessed relief. On the route there are views of some mountains, a golf course, some beautiful houses and even a llama farm! Believe me, there’s nothing quite like the sight of grazing llamas on a remote Welsh hillside to wake you up on a morning!

We took an Autumn break in October 2022 and I was really looking forward to going for a run. We were heading to Alcudia in Majorca and not only did it look beautiful, but it looked flat too. I couldn’t wait to get out there and follow any runs up with a long dip in the hotel pool! And then I collapsed in the airport which eventually led to me having heart surgery less than a month later! So, running in Alcudia remains on the ‘change of scenery’ list!

In the latter part of last year I managed two more runs in very different places. Firstly, on a trip home to Newcastle to see family and friends I got up especially early, having plotted out a route along the edges of a local industrial estate and ran a 10k. Not the greatest scenery ever, although there was a brief view of the Angel of The North, but it was the flattest run I’d done in ages meaning I could really have a go at a good time. It was also reasonably quiet, presumably because most of the factories and businesses had started work, so that was also quite nice – none of the usual fighting for pavement space or avoiding rogue dogs!

My last ‘away’ runs of the year came once again in Majorca. Following last year’s troubled break we went away again in early November determined to make the most of the break and knowing that I’d be able to take part much more than last time!

I managed to find a street map via Google and so planned out a route that I could take, looking it over several times in order to try and commit it to memory. It took in some of the quieter parts of town and some of the outskirts and more rural areas as well as a good portion of the sea front, so I was sure to have plenty of sights to take my mind off those aching legs!

As you’d expect, running in Majorca was hot, even in November, and so it made it fairly difficult, but the change of scenery worked its magic. In fact, it worked so well on my first run that I actually managed to get lost, running down what I thought was the right road before discovering it was a dead end after about half a mile and styling it out by turning round and running up the other side of the road as if that was what I’d intended all along!

The mistake meant that I was determined to get back out later in the week, just so that I could check out the bits of the route that I’d missed. And so, a couple of days later I set out again and managed a slightly quicker 5k while keeping the pace low enough to be able to take in every last one of the sights. So, not a serious bit of training, but a lot more interesting than my usual routes!

This year I plan to add more changes of scene to my running routine and have already signed up to a new race, with more to come. We’ll definitely be off on holiday too, so I’ll be making sure to take my gear with me. Aside from that I’d like to explore a few more places and have vague plans for some very early starts that will enable me to drive out to a few places and go running there. I haven’t settled on anywhere specific yet, but I won’t leave it long.

So, if you feel like you’re stuck in a rut with your running or just a little bit bored, try a change of scenery. It really can make all the difference!

The Joys of Volunteering

For the last few months I’ve been trying something a little bit different. It started with just giving my son a lift to where he was going and then curiosity and trying to be a good dad somehow got the better of me. Now, I seem to be a fully fledged volunteer!

In actual fact, the whole thing really started around a year ago. My son had decided to do his Bronze for the Duke of Edinburgh Award and as part of his challenge he had to do 6 months worth of volunteering and so, following in his sister’s footsteps, he started helping out at a local Parkrun. For the majority of the time there were four of them, all friends, doing this. But then occasionally it’d just be him and so I got involved and stood marshalling with him on various parts of the course. Often cold, but always bearable!

When he decided to then do his Silver D of E award we thought he’d change his volunteering to something else. But he didn’t and so here we are again!

For the first few weeks I would just drop him off and then go for a long walk around the country park that the run takes place in. After all, it wasn’t me who was taking part in the Duke of Edinburgh award and besides, I saw my Saturday morning hike as good recovery time, as my heart operation was a few months previous. The exercise combined with that early morning solitude was blissful!

Then, one week my son asked if I fancied joining in and doing some marshalling with him. Having done a few weeks scanning the barcodes of the finishers he fancied a change and so of course, in my quest to be dad of the year, I said yes.

There are loads of different roles that you can volunteer for at a Parkrun. I had a look at our latest roster and that told me that there were 15 different jobs to choose from. You can fulfil various roles at the finish, as well as tail walking with the last participant, be it a runner or walker. And in marshalling alone, we have 11 different checkpoints to fill. So, there’s a lot of variation in what you can choose to be doing in supporting the runners.

As a marshall, all we really do is watch the runners come past our checkpoint, keep an eye out for any problems, answer any questions and make sure no one walks across the course as the runners approach. Oh, and clapping. We do a lot of clapping and encouraging.

Of course, it’s been winter and so the conditions have been cold, to say the least. The standing around doesn’t help either and in fact it can leave me in a bit of pain as my back and my feet don’t seem keen on just standing. A couple of weeks ago we were soaked to the skin, despite wearing heavy coats, as the rain was just torrential. But the race went on! It made me look forward to Spring and the weather being a bit warmer though!

Volunteering always leaves me in a good mood. For a start, there’s the sense of pride that you get in just being able to help out. It’s nice that lots of the runners will actively thank us as they go round. I always think it’s nice to be appreciated, even though it feels strange to be thanked when the runners are the ones exerting themselves! But at a time when my mental health hasn’t always been good it’s a welcome boost.

It’s nice to feel like part of something too. There’s a friendliness and a sense of community amongst both runners and volunteers and although I’m quite quiet and don’t really talk to too many people, it always feels like we’re welcome and very much appreciated. And of course it’s good to spend some quality time with my son too, despite the early mornings!

In the future, perhaps in retirement I’d like to do more volunteering. We’ve talked about helping out at one of the RSPB reserves as it’s something that’s been of interest for a while. I’d like to volunteer with the homeless too. I think that given I’ll have a bit more time to play with once I’m retired or at least semi retired, it’d be good to use that to help others.

In the meantime, volunteering is something that I’d actively encourage anyone to try. It can get you exercise and undoubtedly helps with your mental health. The fresh air alone is really important to me.

If you’re thinking of volunteering, there are over 1200 different Parkruns around the U.K. It’s easy to do, even if it is quite early on a Saturday or Sunday morning and the rewards are great. I can’t guarantee the weather, but it’s something that I’d definitely recommend. Give it a go, it might just make a really positive change in your life!

Legs like jelly and lungs fit to burst, but crossing the line with a smile – my experience at Parkrun.

As some of you know, for the last 18 months or so I’ve been on a bit of a quest to stay fit. And for those of you who didn’t know, well…how to put this? For the last 18 months or so I’ve been on a bit of a quest to stay fit. So now you know.

The quest came as part of a reaction to a health scare. In April 2018 I was admitted to hospital with quite severe heart palpitations and about a month later had to have an operation called a boob job. Just kidding, it was a cardiac ablation. Basically they destroy the bit of your heart that’s causing the problem by inserting catheters through your blood vessels and blasting the affected area with radio waves to create scar tissue that doesn’t conduct the electricity that is reaching your heart and causing the problem. Basically.

My reaction to this was to be a little bit frightened. On the whole it wasn’t a pleasant experience and it left me feeling quite worried that I might be a lot closer to death than I’d ever imagined. And so, as part of a lifestyle change, I began to exercise again. I began to run. Because, baby, we were born to run.

For the most part this has been a very solitary activity. Apart from a few early runs when my son would come with me, I’ve been out running alone. Having discovered X-Box though, my son has decided that he no longer cares about his dad’s health and thus I have no running partner and a son that couldn’t care less whether I live or die. And of course, I jest there. Dark humour and all that. Of course he cares. The whole family does. I mean, who would put the bins out if I keeled over?

I don’t mind the solitary side of things. I like running alone. It leaves me free with my thoughts – I don’t tend to listen to music – and since the operation I feel like I’ve become mentally a lot stronger too. So while as a young man I’d readily give in to the little voice telling me to stop, nowadays I’m made of sterner stuff. I’ll battle on when I feel tired and I’ll run through the periods when I feel like I might be sick. That solitary half hour or hour is more like a break – no one to engage with, nothing to bother me, except tired legs and lungs.

Recently though, my daughter had begun her bronze award in the Duke of Edinburgh scheme. As part of it she has to volunteer for anything up to six months and so, when she was struggling to find somewhere to do this, my wife intervened and contacted the people at our local Parkrun. The organiser, Michelle, couldn’t have been more helpful and agreed instantly to take on my daughter and her friend as volunteers. And this is how I found myself on a narrow lane in Oakwell Hall, West Yorkshire stood in a crowd of people buzzing with anticipation.

In truth Parkrun has been on my radar for ages. It appealed as soon as I read about it, but there was always something stopping me doing it. There are several local to me so I wasn’t short of options and wouldn’t have to travel too far, but that final push to take myself along had always eluded me. But then, with my daughter needing a lift to Oakwell Hall and there being nothing to do but hang around when I got there, I decided to take the plunge. And so I found myself standing on the aforementioned narrow lane in a country park in West Yorkshire wondering what I’d let myself in for one Saturday morning in late August.

It had been a couple of weeks since I’d last run and so my head was full of doubts. And there seemed to be hundreds of others here too. Most were fellow runners – I optimistically classed myself as a runner, despite my feeling that the last bit of today’s run might well be crawled – and then there were quite a few others either volunteering in some capacity or spectating. For a few minutes I was convinced I’d made a big mistake and wondered if anyone would notice if I simply wandered off in the direction of my car. But then I looked over to where a group of volunteers were standing, getting ready to head off to their marshalling points, and spotted my daughter and her best friend. Both were here as part of their Duke of Edinburgh bronze award…I couldn’t let them down. I couldn’t face explaining why I’d done the wrong kind of runner. So I pushed the positives.

One of the moments that I was dreading was the guidance for new Parkrunners. I’d got it into my head that I was sure to be the only one and that while someone lectured me about running, a whole load of Saucony clad young folk would be standing around eyeing me up and tutting at my inexperience.

Unsurprisingly, it was nothing of the sort. Firstly, there were around a dozen of us new to the run, so I could hide in company. Secondly, the talk was enthusiastic and good humoured; it was clear that everyone wanted us to do well. And finally, a quick glance around told me that there was no difference between us newbies and the veterans that we stood amongst – everyone was just here for a run.

Following the briefing of the virgins, I decided to head down to the start of the run. Still suffering from nerves and a little bit of self-doubt I headed towards the back of the ever growing group. Looking around it didn’t take long for me to notice that everyone seemed happy. There was a selection of ages and body shapes, the weather was good and it was the very start of the weekend. Amazingly, it didn’t take long for this Parkrun ‘vibe’ to take hold of me. While normally I’m cynical and quite resistant to smiling, I found myself gradually relaxing. Positive thoughts seeped into my mind and it wasn’t long before I was telling myself that not only could I actually do this, but that I could enjoy it and perhaps even do it well. Such is the atmosphere at Parkrun.

It wasn’t long before I was joined in the starting area by a lot more runners. A check of my watch revealed that it was a few minutes to the 9am start time. And then, at the head of the pack, sans megaphone, appeared race director Michelle. At first I struggled to hear precisely what she was saying, such was the noise of dogs around me. Actual dogs…that’s not me turning all pirate on you. But occasionally people would clap, so dutiful as ever, I clapped along, not sure whether I was feeling positive or not. Slowly but surely though I got to hear what she was saying and basically Michelle was being a one-woman motivational/relaxation tool. She also seemed to be a dog whisperer too, as the more she shouted, the quieter the hounds became. By the time she began asking whether there were any tourists or first timers I was relaxed and ready to run. I secretly hoped that the dogs had fell asleep – surely even I couldn’t finish last if the saying about letting sleeping dogs lie was going to be adhered to. And then, before I knew it, we were off!

At the back of the field we shuffle awkwardly forward, occasionally breaking into a jog, before slowing again as the road narrows. Luckily, by the time I pass my daughter for the first time, I’m doing something that resembles running. Despite the uphill start and the fact that the lane narrows to a path within a couple of hundred yards, I’m feeling fine as we reach the first turn onto a track I know well from family walks around the park.

For a short while I jog steadily along, sort of stuck behind people, but also running on auto-pilot and not particularly interested in upping the pace. And then, as the track widens enough a couple of runners pass me and it snaps me into some sort of action. I kick on a few times and get round some of the runners around me, picking up a comfortable pace and stretching my legs a little.

Soon, we hit the first downhill stretch and I negotiate this fairly carefully, aware of the fact that if anyone’s going to take a tumble, it’s going to be me. Then the track narrows again and the pace is back to a crawl, but I’m feeling relatively good.

As the track opens out we face a short, energy sapping uphill climb over some cobbles – well we are in deepest Yorkshire – through the car park and we’re about halfway around our first lap of the park. I’m suddenly aware of clapping and some shouting and when I look up I’m greeted by the sight of several high-viz jackets adorning a group of volunteers who proceed to do a wonderful job of congratulating everyone that passes on their progress, however slow we may be, or in my case how much our face resembles a plum tomato. And this is one of the many great things about Parkrun; everyone is so supportive and positive. At various points around the 5 kilometre course they stand and congratulate you or tell you what a great job you’re doing. And in the spirit of the whole thing you find yourself thanking them right back. As a veteran of 6 Great North Runs I know that I react well to such encouragement and crowd participation and although it’s on a much smaller scale here, it’s no less welcome.

We crest the hill and across the road from me is my daughter and her friend. Again, despite my embarrassment, it’s a boost and I lengthen my stride ahead of another downhill section. Another bit of a kick and I’m feeling pretty good – *coughs* for a man of my age – and I manage to pass a few people on the way down the hill. Near the bottom though comes a bit of a test. Oakwell Hall features a path that zig-zags down towards the stream at quite a severe angle, so you’re going back on yourself and taking some rather sharp turns. My legs are tiring and by the time I’ve hit the bottom of the hill and crossed the bridge over the stream I’m blowing a bit. In what I’m rapidly finding out is true Parkrun fashion there’s another volunteer twist as a female marshall stands shouting encouragement while shaking maracas at us at the bottom of the hill. Strange, but brilliant and the kind of thing that takes my mind of my aching body and makes me laugh in spite of it.

But there’s no let-up as we hit another steep uphill section. I make the mistake of running up the stairs and have legs like jelly at the top. Within a few minutes there’s another steep uphill climb, but by the top we’re heading towards halfway and as the trail opens up I realise there’s more people to be passed. By the time we hit halfway I feel a strange mix of being full of running and absolutely knackered! I’m feeling OK though and more to the point, I’m enjoying myself. There are more marshalls encouraging us, more downhill sections and, sadly, more uphills too, but before I know it I’m heading along the final few hundred metres of trail and powering -sort of – for the finish line. I have no idea whatsoever of how I’m doing or of what my time might be, but I’m enjoying myself and I know that I need to open up my stride and try to have a big finish. Just before we turn right into the final straight I’m passed by a couple of runners. I tell myself that it’s OK, they’re both a lot younger than me, but I try to respond and catch them. There’s nothing left in my legs though. Still, I spot a woman in colourful leggings ahead of me running with a dog. I’ve enjoyed my run, but I can’t get beaten by a lass in fancy dress. I summon up one last kick and seem to be catching her up, but it’s too late. As much as my mind wants to sprint, my legs have had enough. I’m making no more ground up today, so with my time in mind, I keep up my middle-aged sprint and try to pass the finish line with a tiny bit of style and probably slightly less dignity.

Whatever I might look like though, I’m done. And I think I’ve done OK. Parkrun may not be a marathon or any kind of huge test, but it’s a lot of fun. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed my morning. Everyone’s been welcoming and the runners come in all shapes, sizes and approaches, which is comforting when your legs are like pipe cleaners and as your body heats up it all goes to your face, making sure you look like the aforementioned tomato after about 500 yards.

It’s not really a race, but you’ll be informed of your position in the field and your time, so there’s always going to be that competitive edge. As it turns out, shortly after I get home I’m informed by email that I managed to drag myself around the 5km course in just over 31 minutes. It’s an automatic personal best too, due to the fact that I’ve never done Parkrun before!

As a result of the run I have to give myself a couple of weeks rest as my back reacts badly to the trail running. However, within a fortnight I’m back and this time I manage to take almost a minute off my personal best. Then, a week later when I’ve clearly caught the Parkrun bug I manage to get round in 29 minutes and 3 seconds. My third Parkrun and my third personal best!

I hope that I can go on and complete many more. For now I’ll stick to Oakwell Hall, but I have it in my mind to sample the atmosphere at others as well, because that amount of encouragement is strangely addictive. And maybe that’s the thing about Parkrun – a non-threatening, friendly, positive place where everyone – even your competitors – want you to do well. Who could ask for anything more while dragging their middle aged, lycra-clad body round a park?