Running 5K in the cold every Saturday morning at 9:00 AM doesn’t necessarily sound like fun. The first Parkrun I did, I hated it. It was too hilly, I ran too fast and felt horribly sick by the end.
I told myself I’d never do it again. I was so shattered after the first that I crawled back into bed when I got home. So I watched my mum and sister go out without me and run it again the week after.
It was at a different Parkrun, and they told me it was flat, and they just had a laugh going at their own pace. So I thought that maybe, my first experience was misleading, and that I was missing out.
And next Saturday there I was: freezing at the start line of another Parkrun. True to their word, my mum and sister set the pace slow, walking if we wanted to. Even so it was tiring, and I wasn’t sure if I enjoyed it or not.
However, I continued to go. I’ve now done six Parkruns- I’m working up to 10, so that I can get a ’10 run t-shirt’. It’s still unclear to me whether I actually like it. I mean, it’s a 5K, and it’s not easy. But I can tell it’s doing me good.
My weekends now begin with a Parkrun, and I think that’s what’s cool. It’s healthy, it wakes you up, and regardless as to whether I enjoy it, I’m always glad I’ve done it.