How a reporter’s one-off Rotherham parkrun turned into 50

That’s how I started a story not so long ago commemorating the 500th Rotherham parkrun.

A complete beginner, I ran the course, all 5km of it, and wobbled home puffing and panting in 172nd place out of 243 runners.

It was only supposed to be a one-off, a brief glimpse into what more energetic and health-conscious folk do on a Saturday morning.

Just over a year on I’ve just completed my 50th parkrun and will soon have a tee shirt to prove it.

For those who don’t know, parkrun is a free event for runners (or walkers) of all ages that takes place in green spaces right across the country at 9am every Saturday.

You just register online, turn up with a barcode, get to the start line on time and away you go.

Your finishing time is collected by a volunteer and later that morning it is pinged to your phone along with other interesting bits and bobs about your overall position and where you finished by age and sex etc.

As I’ve discovered in the weeks and months since my nervous debut, parkrun becomes a habit.

That three-lap trek around Clifton Park blasts away the cobwebs and makes you feel better.

The parkrun isn’t a race, although it might be for some of the two-legged greyhounds at the front.

It’s whatever you want it to be, whether that’s beating your previous week’s time, going for a new PB (personal best) or simply getting out for a bit of fresh air and exercise.

Essentially you are racing against yourself and maybe that’s a good thing.

I’ve had park-runners breeze past me pushing a pram or trotting along with their dog on a lead. Then there’s the people who have to stop for a rest or a walk and still beat you to the finish line.

The ability of some parkrunners to hold a detailed conversation with a running partner while their heart races at 145bpm never fails to amaze.

"What did you have for dinner last night?”

“I think we’re a much better team in a 3-5-2.”

"My cat’s going to need an eye operation.”

I ran my first few parkruns in my old tennis shoes until I went up to a specialist shop at Attercliffe and bought a proper pair.

Suddenly it was like running with springs in my heels and the finishing times nudged down from 30 minutes to 29 minutes to 27 minutes and then to 26 minutes.

After a while the sight of the bandstand at Clifton Park and the long trudge up past the tennis courts got a bit tiring so I branched off and tried the parkrun at Rother Valley.

Compared to hilly Clifton Park, it’s as flat as a pancake and the views across the lake are much nicer.

One day there I pushed too hard at the end and a race marshall told me to calm down and take a breath.

He was right. I am in the 55-59 age group (soon to be 60-64), so hardly in the first flush of youth. Know your limits.

Back at Clifton Park one summer’s Saturday morning, a tough looking bloke stripped to the waist was out walking his dog.

Sure enough, the animal (a lurcher, I think) walked straight across my path and nearly wiped me out.

I went further afield again, trying the parkrun at Concord Park in Sheffield and there I met what they call a parkrun “tourist”.

These are people who travel near and far trying out different parkruns.

A similar age to me, this one was from Southampton and he was there because he was visiting his brother up the road.

The start line was the last I saw of him because he disappeared into the distance and was probably back at his brother’s house having a cup of tea by the time I finished

More recently I shook off a hangover and headed back to Concord for the New Year’s Day parkrun.

Except there wasn’t one.

“Blow it,” I thought. “I haven’t come all this way for nothing.”

I still ran the course with only a few puzzled strollers for company, all probably wondering why I’d nothing better to do on a freezing New Year’s Day morning.

Around that time I set a new Personal Best of 25 minutes on the button back at Clifton Park.

Thanks to a bout of man flu and a chest infection I’ve come nowhere near it since, but does it really matter?

I’m taken back to the words Pete Robinson – one of the brilliant parkrun volunteers – used when I tackled my first parkrun.

“Parkrun gets you out of of bed on a Saturday morning. It sets up your weekend,” he said.

Here’s to the next 50.

Fancy giving parkrun a try?

You can register at https://www.parkrun.org.uk/rotherham/