BTM Parkruns

  Pre I don't know South London from Southend. Other than one has Peter Pans and people with redder shoulders and more dolphin tattoos. Point is, I don't know what direction this one was in but it was in a fairly opposite direction to those thus travelled. We got there an hour early and parked. The entrance to the park was very much in the architectural nature of a geometrical submarine. Big and grey. Or quite like the gate that separates the inhabitants of Skull Island from Kong. A kind of hard, man made threshold between the colourless gravel of the car park and the lush, green jungle of the carless park. I had a hot piss in it regardless. Then we passed into Kong's domain and had a little walk around. Amusingly to me, on the reverse of the sacrificial wall, was a woman's fitness class. That must be where he stashes them after collection. We warmed up and surveyed the course. I had remarked to Arif that Greg Foy frequented this Parkrun but I had not seen him upload a ...

Pre We were excited for this one. Alexandra Palace! the biggen. Hills the likes of which we had not run since we did 300m up Beckton Alps half a decade ago. We arrived over an hour early on a frosty and clean morning. We were rewarded for our punctuality by realising the Parkrun was cancelled due to ice, and being able to select a replacement in good time. I had suggested Pymmes due to its seemingly quaint and intimate attendance, smaller than Beckton I was lead to believe by the course page. After deliberation, Arif settled upon Oak Hill as his offering. It sounded like a winner and we left the car park to make our way down the omnipresent hill and towards the lesser present Oak. The orange sun rose up from behind the grey skyline of London, bathing the city in a deep, rich glow.   It took all but 15 minutes to get to Oak Hill and we parked comfortably. The park was small but interesting. A scenic stream flowed through the center and the park was undulating, crispy with frost...

  Pre The journey was notable because we happened to pass Stamford Bridge. My impression was that from the brief glimpse I had, it was very much akin to the old Boleyn ground. Which seemed incongruent with the fact it had seen probably billions spent since being procured by an oligarch. Now I come to think and type of it, Chelsea FC always reminded me of Arif when they had that mammoth crest or whatever it was. Little did I know the mammoth undertaking that would soon be undertook.  We arrived in good time as we so often do and continued to break the foreboding parking curses that every Parkrun page seems to wish upon you, by parking a stone's throw from the course. As the car was locked, the heinous Thames wind buffeted our faces and the rain lashed across us. We did our mile(ish) warm up and attended the briefing. It was quite unnecessary, as a bunch of prized pratts prattled on quite pretentiously, all but drowning out the race director.  The Parkrun Two laps, up throu...

Pre   Richmond Park was decided as the next stop on our Parkrun march. Myself and Arif the Conqueror set off at 7:15 and before long we were driving through the quiet streets of central London at 20mph (which I was thankful for, as this meant no lateral movement through the car). I often remarked at the beauty and stillness of an otherwise chaotic city. Arif has a far better knowledge of the geography than myself, and I enjoy his lessons on what and where everything is. At about 20 minutes away from the park I had the epiphany that we needed to have the exact post code entered into the satnav otherwise we may end up an unfeasible distance away from the course (due to the size of Richmond Park). After a slightly stressful delve into the location we needed, it turned out to be easily achievable. We entered the new destination.  We turned the corner and began the slow saunter by car to the car park. We parked easily due to the multitude of spaces and fortunately, directly in fron...