Here's this week's fantastic run report written by Paul Bate:
I don't know about you, dear parkrunner, but the morning of the 5th of September 2015 is not one that I will look back on with great fondness.
I'm a relative novice to Parkrun; this was my 8th one so far.
Meaning that I'm the one usually hovering nervously at the start line in the 1980s castoff shorts and 'ET: The Extra Terrestrial' t-shirt, gazing with quiet admiration at the highly-trained athlete types with their '50' and '100' commemorative shirts on.
I had recently entertained the idea of just buying one of those t-shirts off the internet, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I did.
No-one likes a cheat, do they?
Anyway, I digress . . .
I took up my usual starting place of 'somewhere near the back' and set off at a gentle jogging pace. As per usual, the zealous, energetic types streamed past me. I prefer to warm up into it, myself.
Slow and steady wins the race, that's my motto.
My esteemed cousin George blazed past me like a whippet bounding through the morning sunshine, towed forward toward the start/finish line by his actual dog Bonnie.
(Between you and me, I think the powers that be should add a few minutes onto his time, seeing as he's got additional help. Or they should at least put a 'Canine-Assisted' (CA) code on his bit on the results page.)
Then, after about 1 kilometre, it all started to go wrong for yours truly . . .
The shock of the unseasonably cold weather pretty much brought me to a stop.
I felt like I was running around the Antarctic with a giraffe on my chest.
At altitude.
In my underpants.
It really was that difficult.
I had to make the 'walk of shame' for several stints of the route, resulting in me getting a 'Personal Worst' time of 33 minutes and 7 seconds.
When I did reach the finish line, I'd temporarily lost the power of speech and the ability to grip with my hands.
I felt like I'd had a stroke or something.
I had to go to the cafe across the road and warm my fingers up using the hand dryer in the gents' toilets. I spent the next hour trying to warm my internal organs up with a pot of peppermint tea.
So the very long-winded point I'm making here is this:
If you ran Parkrun Number 184 on Saturday and found it tough, don't be discouraged.
You're not alone.
The ladies and gentlemen who volunteered on that day informed me that the overall quickest time was about 2 minutes longer than normal.
(Well done to Lee Hughes of Lymm Runners. Bravo, that man).
Hats off to everyone who completed the run on that day and thanks to the volunteers.
I even noticed a young man of Primary School age working as a marshall. I had thought that child labour had been outlawed with the closure of the cotton mills at the end of the 20th century, but it would appear that I'm mistaken. Shows what I know . . . .
(A special round of applause goes out to that individual.)
PS- Before I go, some points I have been asked to tell everyone about:
1. In the funnel at the end of your run, please do your best to stay in line.
2. Please take a token whether you want a time or not. If you skip this bit, it causes problems with the results.
Many thanks.
See you at Parkrun #185 . . . . .