Review of Wythenshawe ParkRun - 3rd October 2015

For those of you who don’t know, “ParkRun” is a FREE weekly 5km race that takes place all over the world on a Saturday morning.  Set up by Paul Sinton-Hewitt in 2004, it is when the running community get together and do what they love best: they run.

I’m relatively new to ParkRun.  Today was my fourth visit to the lovely bods at Wythenshawe Park.  After the Manchester marathon in April, I had a marathon rest (ha ha, pun intended!) throughout the Summer, and only in the last few weeks have started another training plan.  So today, when I got up early for the 9am race start, I felt somewhat fatter and more sluggish than I had been earlier in the year.  I admit it, I didn’t have high hopes for any great times.  A sub-30 minute result would have been ideal, so I told myself.

Inspired by some friends who had actually been swimming the Channel since 4.20am this morning (check them out @channelladies), I pulled on my running gear, my hoodie, and then my fleece, and ventured out in the somewhat foggy Manchester morning.  It was time to get back into racing.

A short drive later, I’m huddling into my clothes and starting the walk from the car park to the main meeting area at the main hall, opposite the Oliver Cromwell statue.  

At 8.30am, 30 minutes before the race start, hardly anyone was there.  I saw the wonderful volunteers, congregated round a pair of tables and I gave them a smile.  The fog had started to clear across the park.

As I walked to the path to start my warm-up, I spotted three guys walking together.  I overheard a name which reminded me of an old Coronation Street star, or at least I think I did. 

Still cocooned in my fleece, I forced my body into a slow warm-up jog, noticing just how sluggish it all felt. After a few minutes, I started stretching and despite thinking I looked a bit like a clown, I made sure I did some squats to, as my physio would say, get my glutes “fired up”.

Back at the start line, I then saw the masses, the bunch of multi-coloured fellow runners, making their way in their hundreds to the main starting area.  It was like a scene out of Braveheart, just less Scottish, and more fit looking (probably).

Tying my fleece, and then my jumper to the railings, I got into race mode.  Shoelaces triple knotted. Check.  Headphones secured underneath bra and race top. Check. Boobs. (yes, they’re there, and staying there. Check.)

Wandering to the start line, the sleepiness started to evaporate, and I looked for someone I could talk to.  Anyone.  There was one guy who I had seen earlier before my warm up, who was so eager to get started, he had assumed his starting pose on the start line, and had been there for 20 minutes. I say “eager”. Start lines are tricky places.  Some people are so nervous, they don’t want to interact with anyone.  Seeing his large “Beats by Dre” headphones, I decided not to interfere.

Seeing instead two girls walking to the start, I saw that they had stopped talking, and I tried to take a moment to intervene.  But then I realised they had stopped talking because they were both looking at something.  Checking it wasn’t me, and no wardrobe malfunction had occurred, I realised they were checking out the derriere that had been placed right before them by someone, who I can only call, “Mr Motivator”, and who was performing various stretches ahead of the race.  Like Mr. Motivator, he did appear to possess a certain amount of spandex in his wardrobe, but no, upon, closer - and purely for the purposes of this blog - inspection, I realised his muscles were just so big they filled out and stretched the seams of his running outerwear.

Realising there was a good chance I might be staring, I busied myself with trying to start up my Garmin.  Ah, my Garmin.  How I love it. A guy saw me beeping away, and I mean that literally, not figuratively.

“Garmin issues?”

I nodded. “I love the thing, but it’s old – I’ve had it 7 years and I’m hoping to get the latest £260 model.”

“Good luck with that.”

“It’s my birthday next week?”

Garmin Guy smiled and looked at his own, working Garmin, which he advised cost a mere £70. Don’t get me wrong, my timer works, and nine times out of ten the sat nav picks up. Just sometimes it freezes. Like at my first ever marathon when it told me it was 8.20am when in fact it was 8.40am. I still get nightmares about that.

I spotted a tall, slim lady behind me.  She didn’t look at me and stared right ahead, with headphones in.  I gulped.

“Hi.  Looking forward to the race?”

She removed her headphones. 

She nodded.

I started the conversation.

“I always tend to get nervous at races.”

“I’m really nervous.”

“Have you done ParkRun before?”

Tall girl nodded. “This is my fourteenth!”

“Wow! That’s really great! This is my fourth!”

The tall girl started to tell me about how she had started out as a runner only recently using the NHS scheme “from couch to 5k” training plan which was really good. She told me that she was actually listening to a podcast from the NHS which was going to talk her through the entire race, in an attempt to knock ten seconds off her time. 

“I’m probably the only one here with a guy talking me through it.”

I laughed. “Well, I’ve got Swedish House Mafia and some dodgy r&b music.”

“I would love to get under 30 minutes. I’ve only done it once before.”

“I’m sure you will smash it.”

                     

Conversation ended, I spotted another girl nearby carrying a water bottle and wearing a blue top that was very similar to one I used to own. She smiled at me.  A smiler! Great! I smiled happily back.

And then it was nearly time to start.  But before then, we had the announcements.

Now I will confess that I don’t always hear the announcements.  Previous ParkRun occasions have seen me attempt to listen with the interspersion of constant dog barking, but I am pleased to report that today said dog had not made an appearance.

But one of the ParkRun organisers had… and standing on what I can only assume was a chair (being so far at the back), I heard a cheer for all the new starters, for Julie who was doing her 50^th Park Run today, for some guy who was doing his 100^th Park Run but who I think had failed to turn up, and for the tourists who had come from Timbuctoo. I clapped a lot. And nodded.  And clapped.  And did a really good seal impression.

Then without further ado, we were off! Running! Free like a bird!

I saw a guy with a camera and smiled.

Passing the start line, we all went off into the grassy bit that thankfully today was relatively dry.  Ah, that grassy bit.  I do fondly recall a previous ParkRun when that grassy bit had shone in the sunlight, beckoning us foolhardy souls  into its inner place, right behind the back of ole’ Oliver Cromwell, beyond the sight of spectators.  I am sure we have lost Park Runners there before.  I do recall nearly swimming there once. 

Leaving the grassy bit, it’s then a slight climb up a concrete path past bemused looking dog walkers who are clinging to dogs who, if they could speak human, are shouting, “TAKE ME WITH YOOOOU!”

Taking care not to run into anyone’s heels, it started to become very clear that I had suffered a wardrobe malfunction that I was not going to be able to sort.  I wasn’t wearing my ultra supa-dupa sports bra because it’s that tight fitting it requires me waking my lovely other half to help me get into it.  So today, because I’m a considerate sort of person, I put on my usual running sports bra and oh dear, it appears I had lost a little weight (hey, am I really complaining?!!!) and said bra was not, let’s say, being the supportive type of pal I had always thought it would be.

There was nothing I could do but grin and bear it. Keeping a steady pace, I entered a wooded area and realised that I was overtaking quite a few people.  I really didn’t think I could keep up the pace, but I sure was going to try. 

As I’m approaching the football pitch, I’m bracing myself for the wind.  But surprisingly, this was the first Wythenshawe ParkRun for me where there was no wind! Brilliant! It’s still a trek though over the grass, and can feel a bit dismal when you’ve got all that space before you.

But then I saw Blue Top Girl! And I’m overtaking her!  Giving her a thumbs up as I overtook (in some sort of weird Jim Carrey head out a car window sort of way) she nodded a smile and off we went.  Then within seconds, she had dug deep and overtaken me (not with thumbs up I admit, but a good smile) and I cheered her on. Go Blue Top Girl go!

It’s really starting to hurt at this point.  As usual, in all races, I start to question myself.  “Why am I doing this? WWWHHHHYYY?!!! Then I thought of my friends who had been swimming the Channel WITHOUT WETSUITS since 4.20am and I inwardly slapped myself.  Their challenge drove me on.

Blue Top Girl and I fought it out but I let her have it.  I say, “let her have it,” it was a more of a “I give up” fight.  I didn’t want to fight today dear legs, I just want to get round at a steady pace and never, ever stop.  Oh, how I wanted to stop. So, so much.  But it’s 5k for goodness sake! Stop? NEVER!!!

Seeing the fab Blue Top Girl fight to keep her place (and so rightly deserved), I started to look for the frog bin, yes, that’s right, there’s a bin shaped as a frog on the course and it’s near the halfway point (and finish line). I see Blue Top Girl get cheered on by her family, then it’s a short muddy patch and we’re back on concrete.

Halfway.

I had dared not look at my watch or even change my music on my mp3 yet. Up until this point, I had just wanted to get on and get doing this run, without any hindrance.  Well, at halfway, I checked the Garmin for the first time.  It said 14:30min and 1.75m.   I have to confess that I was so tired, the 1.75m meant nothing to me, but I recognised that I could still get a sub-30min if I kept up the pace.

Back on the slight incline, I realised my hands felt cold, but I kept reminding myself of those poor Channel swimmers fighting jellyfish so ignored the cold and ran on.  Plus, I also consoled myself with the happy thought – nothing was hurting (and if you have read my previous blogs, you’ll know that I have suffered quite a bit with injury over the last couple of years).

Getting to the woodland area again, I see a guy walking.

“C’MON, KEEP GOIN’ KEEP GOING!” I yell.

He looked at me in a profoundly odd way.

Then it’s the football pitch again.  Oh, my lungs are working hard at this point.  A kid overtakes me.  Probably no more than 12 years old. 

Now, I’m never one to ask for a large gale force wind on any run, but I do tend to find due to my swimming with Masters, I cope better in races than most when there are bad conditions.  This 12 year old kid is zooming past me on the football pitch.  The last time I was on said football pitch there was a gale force wind blowing right into us runners. 

I do recall, with great clarity, another 12 year old kid back then (it could have been the same kid!) fighting hard against the wind.  And because he was so little and skinny during that ParkRun, his arms were flailing high in the air, his legs were sprawled out and the wind was merciless. He was taking part in his own slow motion movie. But for me, even with the wind remodelling the inside of my mouth, my swimmer arms got me through that gale force wind, and right past that kid.

But today, that kid showed me what karma felt like.

Knowing that after getting off the football pitch it’s all nearly over, I can feel the lactic acid building in my throat and with clear space all around me, I attempt a very unladylike spit onto the ground. 

I failed. Oh dear. 

Too tired to do anything about said spit, I then realised to my horror that photographers often roam this race, looking for prey, so I wiped my face and covered my top, hoping spit could go under cover like sweat.

Keeping up my pace, I get to the woodland area bit again and people behind me start their final runs to the finish line.  I’m trying to keep my steady pace but it’s so hard, I just don’t have the energy – I’m giving everything. 

Reaching the frog bin I see the 12 year old kid slowing down.

“GO GO GO GO! KEEP GOING YOU, YOU YOU KID, YOU KID THERE… KEEP GOING!”

He runs. I’d like to say he was inspired, but you decide.

Back onto the concrete.  Nearly there.

People are sprinting at this point.  I’m counting the women passing me and I’m inwardly cursing – they’re my competition.  But I was spent, there was no extra steam in these legs today.

Hands swollen from the cold, I accepted my ParkRun token after passing the finish line.  Someone approached me and noticing I had the Garmin asked,

“What time?”

I looked and realised I had forgotten to switch it off.

“26-something.”

Exhausted, and thinking my Garmin must have malfunctioned, I went to find Blue Top Girl. Spotting her with her family, she saw me and started laughing, pleased to see me.

Just as I was about to speak, I spotted her husband behind her and started laughing myself. I recognised him!

“I know your husband!”

Then I realised what I had said.

“From WORK! From WORK!”

He didn’t recognise me at first.  Must have been the spit which I later noticed was all over my top.

“So… so are you a lawyer too?!!!”

“[GOD] No. I’m a PA.” I smiled. (NB. I have been shortlisted this week at the Manchester PA Awards 2015…)

After apologising to my co-worker for allowing his wife to beat me in the race and for letting the “work team down” so to speak, we explained our tussle out on the race course, and then I made my excuses to leave. Registering my barcode, I then started walking back to my car.

On the way I got talking to a five times marathon lady, and then Garmin Guy from the start joined us.  They came in at 27 minutes-something so I realised then that I may have got a sub-30 minute 5k which I was delighted with.

Getting to the car, I was just about to start driving off, then realised I had left my hoodie and fleece at the start line. “Too much gabbing,” my mother would say.

Returning to the start line, I’m safely wrapped in my warmer clothes, and just about to return to my car for a second time, but then I see coming up the finish line, the guy who shares his name with a Coronation Street Star - the very first runner I had seen that day.

He was with a friend, and they were both slogging it out, working hard to get to that finish.     

Me, and my fellow runners just stopped. And we clapped them to that finish. 

What an amazing crowd. What an amazing ParkRun.  Many thanks to the volunteers.  Go run Wythenshawe if you haven’t already.

PS. I got a PB! 26:20mins! Who would have thought?! My Garmin will live to see another day!

Follow me @JWilbyPalmer

More reviews:

Review of the Greater Manchester Marathon – 19th April 2015

Review of the Great North West (Blackpool) Half Marathon – 23rd February2015