31/10/15 – Parklife

It’s Saturday morning, so that means getting up early: either climbing in the car to travel to some godforsaken northern outpost to watch my beloved Crystal Palace FC, or, more usually, a 5k timed run in the park.

Parkrun is a wonderful free institution and is probably the main reason that running became a habit for me. If you’ve never heard of it, then click the link and if that leaves you wanting to know more, I can wholeheartedly recommend this book by our local parkrun race director, Debra Bourne.

Our regular parkrun is Lloyd Park in Croydon – known in the community as ‘a bit of a beast’. For starters, it’s run almost entirely on grass (or mud in the winter) rather than paths and well, undulating, would be putting it kindly. There’s one sharp hill halfway around the lap that sucks your breath clean out of your body… and it’s a two lap course. The joy of conquering it once is tempered by the fact that, even when you run as slowly as I do, all too soon, you have to do it again.

In days of old I used to play Sunday football here in the eighties and it had the distinction of a pitch in a U-shape, which meant whichever way you were kicking you it was always uphill to the goal. It’s that sort of place. All that said, it has its plus points too, including woodland glades and some stunning views. Sometimes you just have to remind yourself they are there. Since I’ve been parkrunning, I’ve visited a number of other parkrun venues, most a good deal flatter. But Lloyd is where my heart lies… hills, mud and all.

My PB is 28.46 which was set on only my seventh run back in 2013. Slacker! I heard you cry, but there are circumstances… ok then, excuses. A second knee op has put paid to any hope of ever breaking that. These days, I’m happy simply to beat my previous week’s time, delighted if I can break 31 and ecstatic, on those very rare occasions that I manage to crack 30.

Today was to be a rather different run, though. The course was being run in reverse order with many folk in fancy dress due to a combination of Halloween and the fifth anniversary of this parkrun. This was the first time that we’d been there for the annual event. We’d eschewed the fancy dress option as we wanted to test ourselves with the unfamiliar direction.

Our times were nothing to write home about, around a minute slower than usual for me (32.04) and bit more for Sue, but I quite enjoyed it. Sue was less certain, but then she has a bit of hamstring issue picked up in the recent Tonbridge Half Marathon which is aggravated by hillwork. In recent weeks, she’s been running flat around the local streets rather than parkrunning on a Saturday, but the novelty lured her back home today.

Whilst Sue’s injury was properly diagnosed, I’m pretty sure mine are more psychosomatic. It’s true, that after two ops, my right knee will never be as good as it once was and sometimes it plays up. Bad knees run in my family (sorry). My dear old Dad had a ‘gammy’ knee as a result of a cartilage op in the early 70’s that didn’t go well and walked with a pronounced limp for the rest of his life.  This was before the days of the keyhole surgery that I’ve had twice to repair meniscus tears. More about those another day, the point here being that the moment I put the phone down to Lizzi my knee has been loudly demanding to know what the f**k I think I’m playing at entering a full marathon. Indeed, the only time the dull ache stopped nagging was when I was actually running. I can’t decide whether this is a good sign or not.

I wouldn’t mind but my left ankle, which I’ve never had an issue with to date, appears to have joined the revolt. It began to feel crampy whilst ascending stairs right after the call too. That one, however, I did feel whilst running on inclines today. Sue’s inclination is to get it checked out, mine is the usual cowardly ‘ignore it for a while and maybe it’ll clear up on it’s own’.

Or maybe it’s simply that from now up until the marathon I’ll simply be more aware of the everyday aches and pains, convincing myself that they’ll stop me running, but too scared to go and get a proper diagnosis. Psychosomatic, Hypochondriac or just Self-Delusional? You decide.