Call yourself a runner?
When I first started parkrunning, back in March 2013, I was petrified of drawing attention to myself. My vanity decreed that I turned up in proper running kit, but I was desperate to avoid anyone thinking that I was a runner. And I wasn't. I was a game old bird of 65 ,willing to plod up the hill 3 times as best I could and then turn up the next week and do it all again.
So much to learn, but for once in my life I had that precious commodity, time. I'd played plenty of sport when I was young, and I did know that although some people are blessed with talent, we all have to work on it to get better, so I took to doing extra little runs in the week, in the hope of improving my times.
There was a lovely guy called Ben, who used to volunteer sometimes, and he was a rather superior timekeeper. I realised that he was politely calling out my lap times as I soldiered round, sometimes giving me an estimated finish time as well. It made me feel a little bit like one of the proper runners, just a very little bit.
I'd been entered for running events before, like the Race for Life, ( I'm a breast cancer survivor) and the odd very slow 10k, so I entered a couple more, but I didn't like to tell people. Then one day I was puffing along over Walthamstow Marshes when a Very Fast Runner called Colin fell into step next to me. I immediately apologised for going so slowly and said he didn't need to run with me because he was a proper runner. He explained that he was warming down but he assured me that I was a runner too. I didn't believe him for a second, but it did feel nice.
I kept on running, entering races a bit, getting more confident, enjoying the experience. What I was desperate to avoid was giving the impression that I was any good. I realised that people who didn't run assumed that only really good runners would want to do it. The only reason a woman of my age would want to run would be that she was super fast, a former athlete of some standing, possibly involving records and medals. So I never called myself a runner, I never got any closer than saying that I ran a bit.
Then one day I got a text to say that Sadiq Khan was going to visit our local park, and this was in May 2016, when he was campaigning to become Mayor of London. I went along and joined the crowds who were eager to shake his hand and be charmed by him. I happened to bump into the Leader of Waltham Forest Council at the time, he had been kind enough to give out awards at our parkrun, as I knew him slightly. As we were talking, he realised that I hadn't met Sadiq so he immediately pushed through the crowd to introduce me.
"Sadiq, "he said, "this is Penny....." and then there was a pause, just long enough for me to think,
"This will be interesting, what on earth is he going to introduce me as?"
"She a runner." He said proudly.
There was just a flicker in those charismatic eyes as Sadiq took in the information.
"Yes, " I said, "unlikely as it may seem, that's exactly what I am."
And so I became one.
So much to learn, but for once in my life I had that precious commodity, time. I'd played plenty of sport when I was young, and I did know that although some people are blessed with talent, we all have to work on it to get better, so I took to doing extra little runs in the week, in the hope of improving my times.
There was a lovely guy called Ben, who used to volunteer sometimes, and he was a rather superior timekeeper. I realised that he was politely calling out my lap times as I soldiered round, sometimes giving me an estimated finish time as well. It made me feel a little bit like one of the proper runners, just a very little bit.
I'd been entered for running events before, like the Race for Life, ( I'm a breast cancer survivor) and the odd very slow 10k, so I entered a couple more, but I didn't like to tell people. Then one day I was puffing along over Walthamstow Marshes when a Very Fast Runner called Colin fell into step next to me. I immediately apologised for going so slowly and said he didn't need to run with me because he was a proper runner. He explained that he was warming down but he assured me that I was a runner too. I didn't believe him for a second, but it did feel nice.
I kept on running, entering races a bit, getting more confident, enjoying the experience. What I was desperate to avoid was giving the impression that I was any good. I realised that people who didn't run assumed that only really good runners would want to do it. The only reason a woman of my age would want to run would be that she was super fast, a former athlete of some standing, possibly involving records and medals. So I never called myself a runner, I never got any closer than saying that I ran a bit.
Then one day I got a text to say that Sadiq Khan was going to visit our local park, and this was in May 2016, when he was campaigning to become Mayor of London. I went along and joined the crowds who were eager to shake his hand and be charmed by him. I happened to bump into the Leader of Waltham Forest Council at the time, he had been kind enough to give out awards at our parkrun, as I knew him slightly. As we were talking, he realised that I hadn't met Sadiq so he immediately pushed through the crowd to introduce me.
"Sadiq, "he said, "this is Penny....." and then there was a pause, just long enough for me to think,
"This will be interesting, what on earth is he going to introduce me as?"
"She a runner." He said proudly.
There was just a flicker in those charismatic eyes as Sadiq took in the information.
"Yes, " I said, "unlikely as it may seem, that's exactly what I am."
And so I became one.
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