Roding Valley Parkrun 8.4.23


 Pre

A very short journey it was. Arif parked the car demurely in some victims front room and we were in the park with plenty of time to spare. The devil makes use of idle hands and feet so we spent over an hour playing football tennis, long balls, and finally basketball with the football. Childlike joy was in abundance and I had a fantastic time. 

Another female outhouse was crabappled. The third of our Parkrun tour. This time though, it was in an old cricket clubhouse of sorts, which apparently doubled as the Parkrun base each Saturday morning. There was no light and the toilet was haunted by shadows of spiders. I exited swiftly, with that bank robbing sort of excitement that you get from not being caught. 


 The Parkrun

The course was two laps around a very interesting and varied park. We crossed rivers, fields, paths, and a sodden no mans land of icy puddles. Although similar to Wimbledon, puddles do not adequately describe them. As such, no great time was on the cards, but I suppose it was a fun and stimulating course. I was overtaken a centimetre before the line by a nerd who was no doubt a hero in his own fairytale. As he gasped for air with his hands on his knees, I sauntered by him with my mouth closed. This had not happened since Nonsuch I believe, when a diminutive, leather faced old shrew had done the same thing, almost falling over herself to get in front of me. 

Post

We had our photo in front of a spectacularly large white screen and the official sign, which is always a winner and made our way back to the car. Unbeknownst to us, leaving the orange football that had brought so much in the warm up, underneath the results table. 

 

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