It took eight years, three house moves, two jobs, and one pandemic. A total of 2,821 days to run 50 parkruns. That’s roughly one every two months, perfectly encapsulating the joy of this weekly running club. My older sister Caroline and I embarked on our parkrun journey together in 2016. She was more of a treadmill runner until I persuaded her to try the fresh air version on my birthday. I’d been reading about parkrun and running solo, whether for a light jog or training for a half-marathon. I thought it would be nice to be a bit more sociable. We lined up for our first free 5km runs, almost 300 miles apart, Caroline in Whitley Bay and me at Mile End. It was pretty cool, despite the distracting smell of KFC halfway through the course. I thought I’d probably go back. I did. Once. But for Caroline, it was life-changing. She became hooked on parkrun – now on run 222 – and fell in love with outdoor running, completing countless half-marathons and two full marathons. Her training for this year’s New York marathon will ramp up soon. I, meanwhile, have continued my more casual love affair with parkrun, although running and I are pretty serious. I have a marathon under my belt and another lined up. A move to Shoreditch left me between events location-wise, but I met up with friends at Highbury Fields and ran its five-lap course seven times (once behind Rob Delaney!). After three years, I moved south of the river to Rotherhithe, where Southwark parkrun became my local. It was a lovely flat, leafy course with wide paths. I ran 24 times, bumped into old friends, invited others, and made new ones. I volunteered, melting in the sunshine and freezing in the rain. I even ran my personal best – 24.26 – and ran others very slowly. Throughout this time, running was a constant, but free Saturday mornings weren’t always. I’ve always run. It was the only sport I was good at in school, running painfully long distances in the cold while our PE teacher cycled behind, shouting encouragement. But as an adult, life gets in the way, or sometimes you just need a lie-in on a Saturday, and that’s fine too. The most recent move took me to Catford, with its own beautiful event set in Mountsfield Park. Offering scenic views across the city, this surprisingly muddy and hilly course is a challenge, but still open to everyone. Like every parkrun, there’s no pressure, no judgment. No one cares how fast you run or what you wear. There’s no register, literal or metaphorical, checking your commitment. It’s why, as someone fairly competitive, I’ve never stressed about my sister streaking ahead in the tally stakes. I just love how much she loves it. And that made my 50th parkrun all the more special. It coincided with a trip up north and a visit to Caroline’s new local event, Rising Sun. Lining up for the big 5-0, we clocked another runner hitting the same milestone – with a helium balloon in tow. Caroline had organized a shout-out for me, sending up a big cheer before the countdown began. It reminded me both what a wonderful, thoughtful sister she is and how everyone at parkrun is really behind everyone else, strangers and friends alike. It did get off to an inauspicious start to be honest, as my Apple Watch crashed and refused to start recording. I may not be competitive, but if I’m doing a run, I also want people to know about it. This year Metro has partnered with parkrun to bring you a thriving new content series. Metro has been chosen as the first official media partner for parkrun as it celebrates its 20th birthday in 2024. It’s not just for runners, though. It’s for everyone. Join us as we embark on a series of boundary-pushing wellbeing content designed to elevate and champion, but also to support mental health and societal cohesion. Whether you run, walk, jog or strut, read the stories of those who have found their calling, their community or had their lives changed through the simple act of lacing up their trainers. Get ready to be empowered, inspired, and energised! Register for parkrun here. The best part is that it’s free and you only need to register once. Tech issues were quickly replaced by sweat issues. Sun cream began melting off my face and into my eyes, leaving them streaming the entire way around. The volunteers probably thought I was simply overcome with emotion. I wasn’t, but as always, after completing the 5km there was a lovely feeling of achievement crossing the line, multiplied this time by the milestone. I definitely wish I’d done it sooner, but at the same time running it with Caroline made it much more memorable. For others, however, completing that course really is an emotional moment, for a myriad of reasons. No one knows what each person is going through, what’s happening in their mind or body. It may be the start of a journey, the end of another, or a stepping stone along the way. For some, it may be a lifeline. All we do know is that running can absolutely transform lives, and has done countless times. Some runners are very dedicated, like Caroline, who generally only misses her local run if it’s not on. Then there are people like me, happy to rock up when time and weekend plans allow, safe in the knowledge they’ll be made as welcome as if they’ve never been away. Running, and parkrun, mean something different to everyone. For me, running is a hobby, a much-needed way to clear my head, and a challenge. Next up is the New York Marathon with Caroline, but after that, I guess the big 100 is in my sights. I won’t try to take eight years this time, but if I do, it won’t matter. No one’s judging. Do you have a story you’d like to share? Get in touch by emailing Ross.Mccafferty@metro.co.uk. 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50 Parkruns, 8 Years, and the Joy of Running: One Sister’s Story
