First parkrun for the year on the first day of the year, and my official result is… 59:59… Hang on, something isn’t right.
Obviously, something had gone wrong with posting the timing on the website when the email went out, but it didn’t take long to fix.
Parkrun 1: Nulkaba
Location: Nulkaba, NSW
Position: 75
Time: 32:07
First time at Nulkaba, which is a looped course set in the grounds of a private Christian School in the Hunter Valley. Overall, it’s a nice course on loose gravel through native parkland, a few little inclines and dips to keep it interesting, but overall pretty flat.
My feelings on this run are mixed. Firstly, I’ve never been lapped or lapped anyone before and whilst today I survived getting lapped myself, lapping people was a new and strange experience. The jury is out for me and looped courses, but it is what it is.
Secondly, the time is about 5:20-ish slower than my 5k PB (albeit set on a much flatter course), which just shows how unfit I am now compared to where I was only a few short years ago. On some levels it’s quite humbling knowing that I have so much work to do to get back to where I should be; on others its frustrating that I’ve gotten to this point. My running and fitness were super important to me at various points, and it feels like 2024 was in many ways a completely wasted year.
The run itself was a tough day at the office. A very packed start line meant that finding a rythm early was hard. Squeezing past walkers and slower runners to find my groove and slot in behind a group of runners whose pace was more aligned with mine seemed to take an age – more so than at busier parkruns I’ve done in the past, or at organised races. Part of this is due to the size of the field which, at 188, wasn’t huge by any stretch, but easily bigger than what the organisers have been used to. These things happen from time to time, it’s no big deal, and given my pace anyway I wasn’t too worried.
Settling into a bit of a rythm I started to slowly overtake runners, but the first kilometre felt like a battle – as it so often does. At times like this I tend to start with the internal chatter early, remind myself that the first kilometre or so is always the hardest and once you get into the zone everything becomes easier. Today, there was no zone.
By the time we got to the turn point at halfway on the first lap, the field had started to spread out a bit. I had found a couple of people to run behind and this first bit after the turn was on a small downhill. Heart rate dropped back a bit, and I felt ok – not in my best form, not in my worst. It was definitely past the point of those first km blues, but there was no recognition of this – there was no point of ‘ok, feeling good, let’s go get this’.
I continued along the path as it meandered through the native bushland before a short uphill back into the school grounds proper, then a downhill left turn to loop back towards the start line and onto lap 2, some 2.5km down and feeling a bit worse for weather with breathing starting to labour, but nothing unmanageable. I slotted in behind a couple of women whose pace was perfect for where I wanted to be and warmed into the run a bit more.
As the three of us are approaching the turnaround point, coming up behind me was a women running with a twin pram with one child, maybe 2 years old, happily singing away, and an infant who was absolutely hating life at that moment and screaming its head off. The juxtaposition of the two was kind of amusing, but I’ll admit the predominant thought running through my head was, ‘Jesus, stop and comfort your kid!!’ Not my proudest moment in hindsight, and the kid was just being a kid, and the mum was just being a mum – not my place to judge.
Through the turnaround point and back down towards the bushland for the final time and all of a sudden I’m feeling a stich come on. I drop the pace a little and it eases, and then I realise I’ve got less than a kilometre to go. So much for dropping the pace, I end up picking things up again and overtaking the pair that I’ve sat behind for the best part of a kilometre and a half. I lap the tailwalker and then start lapping some of the walkers which was a new, and odd, experience.
Back up the hill for the final time, and my pace picks up more – and somehow I’m not even thinking about any stitch so I have no idea if it’s even there or not. Around the turn to head to home and then it happens – I get overtaken by a 12 year old boy. But I don’t care, it’s obviously one of his first few parkruns and hopefully he’s getting a good time for him. Go on, lad!
As I make the final turn, there’s a guy in front of me handing a Zooper Dooper to one of the walkers – at the exact spot where the home straight turns off from the course proper. I’ve had these kinds of things happen before and they annoy me. I get that people are walking their parkrun and that’s cool – but please be aware of the course and the fact you have runners coming up behind you. I don’t think I’m asking too much here. As it is, I squeeze past whilst adjusting my pace up and down to ensure I don’t run into them and fly through the line, collecting my 75th place token, stopping my watch and generally feeling sorry for myself.
It’s my third parkrun in the last 7 days, and my watch is telling me I have 62 hours to recover. Which seems ridiculously excessive. My VO2Max has dropped to 40 – the last time it’s been that low was when I was training for a trail ultra, and that was more down to the fact the watch couldn’t compensate for the differences between trail running and road running. It’s just another thing to improve over the year.
Which is what this journey is all about – becoming a better version of myself. If anything, today has shown it’s going to be a long one.