Parkrun was a daunting event at first, having sweaty palms or that feeling of doom in the pit of my stomach, the start line at Highbury Fields was intimidating; all the pros with their expensive running gear and fancy watches, I felt way out of my depth. Not to mention the slight incline that I perceived as Mount Everest.

Over the years it became something of a past-time – the highlight of the week – not a daunting task but a light-hearted fun run and afterward an unlimited Weatherspoon filter coffee – I quickly became a Parkrun addict.

“How fast can I run?” was the question and Saturday 9am was where I got the answer. My time slowly decreased “24minutes for 5km your flying”. A few years on and I’m back at it again, Saturday after Saturday I find myself tearing down the park just trying to shave off a few seconds here and there. Highbury fields, Mile End, Tooting Bec to name a few, and what have I got to show for it? A pb of 18:11 at Mile End, which has a real hill and a sore pair of legs. My best friend is still the foam roller and Saturday remains the highlight of my week. Have I done enough miles? Did I run fast enough on Tuesday? Was my 1 hour of yoga enough this week? All relative but just get to that start line. My palms still clam up then that feeling of doom is replaced by excitement and… goooo!