volunteering at parkrun

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Aliveandrunning August 10 2014

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Sunday morning, in a village just outside of Cambridge, UK. These clouds looked very dramatic as they rolled over us. The remnants of hurricane Bertha are causing torrential downpours and high, squally winds. When we were looking out of the windows at these storm clouds, a sudden, very strong gust of wind knocked over about eight  tomato and flower containers like skittles, simultaneously. The wind was powerful enough to sweep a heavy, flat bottomed, terracotta pot off a bench and smash it to the ground. It was all over in a few seconds. I agree this is hardly top of the current news stories but there was emotional trauma. A number of tomato branches were horribly buckled and some tomatoes may not survive. I’ve tended these plants twice a day for several weeks now and they’ve almost become family. People say that you can unburden yourself to pigs (if you’ve reared them) because they are responsive, intelligent, curious and they recognise you. But I say you can be pals with tomatoes quite easily (although they are quite prone to blushing). They love to argue about whether they are vegetables or fruit. So, when it’s cooking/salad time and it’s time to go under the knife, I’m really cut up about it.

flower pot 

This picture reveals only some of the havoc wreaked  by the powerful gust which swept through the garden. I’ve had to censor  images of  my hapless tomatoes lying in a horizontal position.

Cambridge junior parkrun this morning, held in driving rain. 51 children aged 4-14 took part, attended by many parents and volunteers. We all got very wet, the children loved it, all the adults enjoyed it because the children had such a great time. It really is a treat to be part of it.

Cambridge senior parkrun yesterday. It didn’t rain but the course was very muddy with large puddles to avoid or run through. As usual, I ran as fast as possible but the soft going didn’t make for a fast time. As usual, my faster pals, in my age range, beat me. Possibly they are on performance enhancing drugs. Perhaps that accounts for the need for  several people to hold them down to stop them running after they go past the finish line. I don’t know. I’m not the kind of guy to make a judgement like that. I’m sure there’s a very good reason why they froth at the mouth when we  sit down for coffee. I’ll leave it at that.

I should do a long run tomorrow, probably 10 miles. 4 weeks to go until the Grunty Fen half marathon. Should be doable, unless my tomatoes need me. They come first,.

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Aliveandrunning August 4 2014

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Cambridge Junior parkrun  last Sunday, a 2k run for children between the ages of4-14. This is the start and the girl on the left won it in a time of 7 minutes 36 seconds. A  fantastic run. 87 took part including some young ones running with their parents (who are not included in the numbers.

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These three walked the 2k, explaining they were a caterpillar and couldn’t be hurried.

I was a timer again (one of two). This is fairly straight forward when the numbers running aren’t high and the children aren’t hurling themselves en masse at the finish line. Cambridge adult parkrun (5k) regularly attracts nearly 400 so timing requires much concentration when they come in densely bunched up and overtaking in the finish tunnel before they receive their position tokens. I did it a couple of years ago, in winter, when only 186 ran. The temperature was low and I didn’t have gloves. My hands were numb with cold. Two fingers snapped off. I didn’t stoop to pick them up; I merely carried on recording the times, selfless as ever.

Saturday’s parkrun was OK. I ran 24 minutes dead (if only I had run a second faster, I would have dropped into the 23’s and my self esteem would have survived intact. Note to self: work on losing that highly significant second).

Yesterday, I dropped off my daughter Sophie at Cambridge Station, parked and went running in the City. Or rather I ran up and down Mill Road, the “bohemian” part of Cambridge before heading for the dark interior, sucking in tourists like a black hole. Mill Road is nearly a mile long and has many interesting independent shops. At the end furthest from town, a big, new mosque complex is going to be built on a derelict site. No work started yet.

As described before, it’s curiously satisfying weaving in and out of the crowds in Cambridge. Although I’m not running fast in any sense of the word,  you feel oddly powerful and nimble negotiating the throng.They move so slowly and you have the impression of  occupying a different time frame.  I seemed  to cover a lot of distance because Cambridge is a small city. I ran around 5 miles before returning to the car, leaving many dozens of people in my wake gasping with the excitement at having witnessed a local running god (albeit in low gear).

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Oh happy days! I found fresh Brussels sprouts in Tesco today. Where were they grown? Don’t know. Probably Tasmania and clocking up about 200,000 air miles. But never mind, they were delicious and on a par with raspberries. Yummy.

The Guardian reports today on loss of provision and funding crises experienced by Women’s Refuge Centres. http://bit.ly/UOw4Z3 The ability to blithely cut, or cut out, these type of essential services, in the name of austerity savings demonstrates what a bunch of shits local and national politicians are. If the public gaze is currently far away from domestic violence, then politically it’s worth taking the risk to cut funding along with other important, humanitarian services which have a low public profile. These politicians have a passion. A passion for putting the boot into small groups  of vulnerable people who have negligible voting power.

 

 

 

 

 

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Aliveandrunning June 21 2014 Juneathon Day 21

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A lovely, leafy, sun dappled long straight path in Milton Country Park, the venue for Cambridge parkrun. On the immediate left (out of shot) is a large lake, so useful for nudging arch rivals into. We have around 400 doing Cambridge parkrun now but by the time this point is reached, we’re reasonably spaced out. I had a good run today and finished only 23 seconds outside my personal best. I think getting below 23 minutes is possible after Juneathon, after I’ve had a few days rest, if  it’s not too hot, if I start nearer to the front, if I do some distance training, if I can fortify myself with lashings of Brussels sprouts, if any of the Greek goddesses are smiling at me from above, and if I’m feeling invincible. So, if all this criteria is satisfied, I’m suited and booted. If only!

We have two timers at Cambridge and Lorna was one of them today. It’s always a slightly anxiety producing job because of the sheer number of runners coming through in bunches, overtaking on the line (and funnel), being joined by children who may or may not have run, pressing buttons hard enough to register as a result and being distracted by the crowds around you. I collected the signage around the course after the run which allows me to take part in the race and volunteer. I came back to the cafe just in time to have a delicious coffee with friends in the sunshine. No matter what time you do, parkrun is such a feel-good experience. Tomorrow is the Hatfield Forest 10k. There should be plenty of shade, at least at intervals. It starts at 10. I’ll have to make a decision about when and how much porridge to eat in the morning. Probably a large bowl around 7 am.

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Here is a fine bed of nettles I’ve cultivated over several years. The key to such an impressive display is to leave them to set seed annually and also to cut them down but leave the roots. They thrive on the challenge to recover their strength.

I can usually pull the young ones up successfully. The older, much more experienced nettles that have been around the block and attended the school of hard knocks are a different matter. They find novel and ingenious ways to sting me, I try to grasp them with gloves and they duck out of the way so I clutch thin air, they hiss and murmur insults. This time , it’s personal. I’m going to apply a lot of time , effort and cunning to make you history, a small footnote in my illustrious gardening career. Anyone for nettle soup?