Parkrun #1: Jesmond Dene (retrospective)

Time for a retrospective post, before I forget everything about my very first parkrun.

I can't even remember the order in which I notched up my modest achievements this year. Sure, it was Couch to 5K first, and then...? The 8K urban orienteering? The Race for Life? My first parkrun, at Jesmond Dene? I dunno. But I do remember, before this first parkrun, having the feeling that I kept surprising myself by achieving way more than I thought I could. And, after being told that the Jesmond Dene parkrun was arguably the hardest in the area, another gauntlet had effectively been thrown down before me. So rather than starting out with a totally flat event like the Town Moor, I went for it.

And to this day, it remains my slowest ever parkrun time (28:36). 😂

(But in saying that, I have a strong hankering to get back to it and smash my PB there. We'll see.)

Before I go any further, I have to say I owe a massive debt of gratitude to a friend who accompanied me on this one. I'll not name her, cos $privacy and all that, but she was the one who challenged me to do it and joined me on the day for good measure. And while it was my first parkrun, it also marked her return to it after a 2-year hiatus, and she pretty much went in cold, as far as I could tell. The support was greatly appreciated.

So, as for the course, what makes it hard? In short, a single, awful hill. The course starts near the bottom of the valley that is Jesmond Dene and has a few small ups and downs as it heads upstream from the start. You then cross the Ouseburn (the stream/river running through the dene), run a bit further upstream past the odd picnic-friendly patch of grass, before re-crossing. By that point, still only a kilometre or so in, I was already struggling and surprised at how hard I was finding it. I suspect nearly every 5K I'd done before then had been fairly level. But... the worst was still to come; I was about to encounter the hill. 😬

Once back over the river, you go up a handful of steps followed by a path that rises steadily (and fairly steeply) until you're completely out of the dene. Emerging into Paddy Freeman park by the Freeman Hospital, I was a gasping wreck... but I was still 'running'. Simply by getting up that hill without stopping or walking, I'd already achieved my main goal for the day.

From there, it was a couple of laps of the green spaces up top — where I mercilessly used other runners to pace myself, while breathing worryingly over their shoulders — followed by a drop back into the valley towards the finish. Even that descent was fairly unrewarding, as it was so steep you couldn't just let gravity dictate your speed. Instead you had to fight it so that you didn't end up going A over T. And that risk was made all the greater by one of my laces, which had come completely undone and proceeded to whip my legs with each stride. But hell, there was no way I stopping to do it up!

In due course, the finish funnel arrived, but while I remember the sight of it, I no longer really remember what I felt. I doubt it was elation, though I imagine I was pretty chuffed to have made it the full distance without having to walk. Probably more relief. And, maybe more importantly, pride to have ticked off another achievement that earlier in the year would've felt like an absolute pipe dream. (As I type that now, it sounds ridiculous, but... /shrug.)

So, that was where the parkrun itch was scratched. And, I suppose, where I caught the bug. Long may that continue. And I really should re-read this post every now and then, to remind myself of the positivity I had at that time, believing that I really could achieve things that often felt impossible. Right now, I could do with a bit of that to revitalise my goal of doing a 10K before the year's out...