#runningbuggy

I’m ashamed to disclose that I am not a parkrun regular. Huddled with 109 others at the start line of the inaugural Forest Rec parkrun – handily located little more than a mile from my front door - I can vividly recall enthusiastically envisioning that a Saturday morning 5K would become entrenched into the weekend routine. Three years down the line and whilst fellow parkrun devotees are sporting a wardrobe full of milestone t-shirts, I’ve amassed a paltry twenty-four parkruns to my name. I could rattle off a list of mitigating circumstances – the stresses and pressures of our humdrum work-consumed lives, as well as the joys and challenges of being a new father – but these would just be excuses.

I’m hoping that I’ve now turned a corner.  

After months of procrastinating, last weekend I finally took my fourteen month daughter Rowan to her maiden parkrun. In all honesty I should have done eons ago but was scarred by an underwhelming Santa Run which was characterised by a teary toddler who went into apoplexy upon spotting her mother at the start of the second lap and audibly made her preference for cuddles with Steph known to anyone within a mile radius. There has also been what feels like months of unimaginably early morning rises so that by the time 9am comes around nap time is beckoning.

Fortuitously last Saturday was a less eventful experience. Admittedly there were still a few disapproving groans, most notably at the beginning when we had to wait for the event team to complete their pre-run routine, but this was quickly replaced by excited chattering as the 5K got underway. More pleasingly by the second lap Rowan was fast asleep, oblivious to the compliments we were receiving from pram-less runners that were fulsome in their admiration for our endeavours, navigating the hilly Forest Rec terrain.