The Renaissance

Run Report for the return of York parkrun (31/7/21) after a 504 day absence.

“What good is the warmth of Summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?” The American novelist John Steinbeck could never have envisioned just how cold, and long, the past Winter would be when penning ‘Travels with Charly’, his 1962 travelogue written in exploration of America. The darkest depths of the short days and long nights seemingly more formidable than before given the atrocious six months that preceded it. 

The 1962 Nobel prize winner didn’t see it coming. None of us did. What unfolded in the UK in early 2020 was to impact nearly every aspect of every life, making no exception for the parkrunning following which spans the globe. The rich and copious benefits of the weekly venture are widely documented and well exceed the immediate advantageous act of enhancing one’s physical fitness and wellbeing. The friendships made, the connections established and the spirit of community indomitable. The revocation of such harmonious blessings was a damning repercussion of a world that had seemingly stopped turning.

Whilst each went about their individual means to address and confront parkrun’s absence, the organisation itself were busily, incessantly grafting away in the shadows, Event Teams as eager as the larger governing body to facilitate a return at the earliest possible date, but only when it was fittingly safe and suitable to do so.

It was an insurmountable challenge, one that at times threatened to be a case of ‘if’ rather than ‘when’. It was a mountain to climb, the summit of which could not be reached with sheer forceable passion, persistence and perseverance. No, the circumstance, unlike any before it, necessitated an unprecedented degree of consideration, patience, and deliberation - emphatic to the fragility of the plight yet diligent in pursuit of the desired outcome. 

Hopes were raised in October of a return, only, despite valiant efforts, to have it snatched away as the country found itself plunged into another national lockdown. In many ways, the adversity faced, and overcome, by the parkrun movement over this abominable period fraught with many a great setback and pitfall, is not dissimilar to the common journey of the very participants who have longed for the return of their beloved Saturday morning ritual. Five thousand metres presents different challenges to different individuals, yet the distance demands a degree of endurance from all. Parkrun, it’s participants, and all who have come through the past 18 months, can boast endurance in abundance. 

So many worked so hard for the day to come, we watched from afar as several countries around the globe saw their events return, hopeful that we too could emulate their successful comeback. The long Winter finally drew to a close, the promise of Spring bringing with it a determined day of destiny. A delay to the easing of national restrictions threatened a stumble at the final hurdle, yet the fruits of labour had finally borne fruition and now the rewards would be reaped.  

The congregation had waited so long, an agonising age without their weekend release, and now they were primed, poised, and ready for the renaissance. All dressed up with nowhere to go. But with parkrun’s return, Cinderella WOULD go to the ball.

The 1989 Kevin Costner movie ‘Field Of Dreams’ features the renowned line “If you build it, they will come” - prompting an Iowa corn farmer to construct a baseball field upon his otherwise lucrative land, and be subsequently visited by the ghosts of baseball legends past. 

The sport may be different but the message, albeit with a slight alteration, would be applicable to this triumphant morning in the shadows of the imposing racecourse grandstand. ‘Run it and they will come (back)’, and come they did, in their masses. Yet those returning to the Knavesmire most certainly weren’t ghosts - they’d never been more alive - Parkrun’s return proving a representative resurrection for the friendships, bonds, passions and pastimes that for 72 weeks had been put on hold. 

Equine intervention dictated that York parkrun would return a week later than it’s counterparts across the country, yet seven days were endurable given the sweetness such patience would call forth. 

As the hour grew closer, clouds hung ominously overhead but did little to darken the mood of the exuberant homecoming, and parkrunners of every age, shape, and size emerged from the numerous roads, paths, trails and foliage that approach York’s famous grassland, an assembled kaleidoscope of colour united in a common interest  - to reclaim what was rightfully theirs. 

Hundreds of faces, some familiar, some so joyful to see again, and those you recognise yet have no idea of their name but with whom you’ve shared miles of the same tarmac so many times before. The exchange of pleasantries, the “hello”s, the “how have you been’”s, and the hugs, even the small talk proved blissful. 

Caution wasn’t recklessly thrown to the wind - the collective were respectful, mindful and amiable. Yet it felt right. It was just like it used to be, the way it should be, and that in itself is a victory. Run Director Ellie Griffin stood before the gathered throng, addressing the exuberant congregation with an eloquence well beyond her years - it was the reunion for which we had yearned for so long.

Adhering to the script, the sun broke through the clouds at 9am and, 504 days after we last stood together as one, 483 euphoric souls roared from the foot of Cherry Lane into the splendour of the morning sun. 

Today, after 16 months away, the Start Line felt more like the Finish Line.