This granny keeps on running

I was brought up on the fable of the hare and the tortoise. I identify with the tortoise; demonstrating a lot more stamina than speed. This is not really an asset in a short event such as the weekly 5k parkrun where the sprinters do tend to finish first rather than settle down to rest whilst I plod past.

What was your time? Was it a PB? These are the standard post run questions. I enjoyed every step, or that was hard work, are my usual replies. I like to measure my runs in terms of personal satisfaction and enjoyment and compare my speed against that of the armchair critics.

That does not mean that I don’t feel an element of pain listening to the moans and groans of sub 22 minute runners over missing a PB by a second or two when I know that I would be ecstatic with anything under half an hour.

Last weekend I ran the undulating Graves parkrun. We were in Sheffield for a wedding and met the groom, and a group of his friends, celebrating his final run as a single man. They were running to a timetable, I told them not to wait for me.

I was wearing my new t-shirt which gave rise to a lot of social banter – about both marathons and politics. Many shouts of ‘I want a Boris one!’ It may have been my slowest ever parkrun; that doesn’t matter, it was the most sociable parkrun I’ve ever run.

One thought on “This granny keeps on running

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