Mile End Parkrun 25.3.23

 Pre

As this was during ramadan, it was our first local Parkrun that was on the itinerary. It almost turned out to be one not so local at all, as mad man Arif suggested Black Park the night before, while I was pondering if Mile End would even happen. As I had booked swimming for 12 on the Saturday, we stuck with the original plan. We had discussed a preliminary fuelling strategy for this period months earlier, while sat in the Oak Hill cafe to which it seemed Arif had somewhat followed. He described himself as feeling like a meat fridge while also full of water. 

The proximity meant we left much later and it was strange to witness the difference in this morning when compared to that on the 31st of December. We had left for Osterley in cold and darkness, and although the temperature wasn't much better, it was bright as day as we departed. This juxtaposition really emphasised how far we had come into this journey, particularly Arif, who had shed nearly 7 minutes from his original time and dare I say it, acquired an invigoration for this mortal realm. 

It took 20 minutes to get there and we arrived in the car park of a GLL leisure centre. It had football cages, a running track, and a 'stadium'. All very fun and nostalgic. Arif remarked it was Tower Hamlet's version of Newham LC, which was very true. 

The Parkrun

The run was two laps over several inclines and along the canal for a brief period. I found it very challenging and was glad to have worn a vest as I became very hot very quickly. It reminded me of the difficulty I had with overheating last summer. The struggles I faced also brought the sobering thought of had I perhaps lead Arif to his death during this holy month. Perhaps we would both end up as dessicated frogs on the canal path, being trampled by expensive foam.  

Post

I finished with a time that would have been top tier last year, but due to my increasing expectations, I was not initially pleased. However, I reiterated to myself that it was actually a brilliant time given the heat and hills. Arif also finished comfortably and to my relief, was in great health and spirits. 

We warmed down with a mile total, up and down the canal. Arif recalled what a cathartic experience this had been which made me happy. Once back at the start, it was apparent that for perhaps the third week in a row, there was no sign for our photo. But it had been such a good morning that it mattered not. We noticed a large, bearded geezer and his daughter taking a photo by a 'Mile End Park' sign. These signs are very much the next best thing in the absence of the real deal. We approached them and the man was happy to take our photo. He was Australian and on a Parkrun tour with his daughter. He talked for some time while his daughter escalated her volume and behaviour for attention, but he was not to be deterred. He told us of a story where she had been accidently trampled by the lead runner in a past Parkrun. I wondered if it was accidental. 

After what seemed 15 minutes of relentless Oceanic prattle, I interjected and said our goodbyes. My ears ringing and eyelids heavy, I retrieved my jacket and we walked back past the pitches to the car. Before departing, we watched a very entertaining match that finished with a dainty backheel goal. We had to dash, as I had swimming booked for 12.