The aim was to do a 5 km Parkrun every Saturday of this year. Running amongst a crowd, with the stimulus of racing adrenaline, was meant to restore some of the physical fitness I feel I’ve lost since a peak at age 61 or 62.
Even when Parkrun was shut down globally, I kept up the concept, running each Saturday morning, trying to get back a little speed, and for some time a “pretend” Parkrun held meaning. But now, with lockdown still in place, and with a host of anxiety and work performance pressures, suddenly Parkrun makes no sense. A Big Year is a big deal to me, something that I single out from all the many noble impulses beating inside my chest, and faux Parkruns don’t excite or scare me enough. So … this particular Big Year is hereby cancelled.
I’ll put something else in place, or at least I suspect I will. But isolation and lockdown mess with motivation, so I’ll need to interrogate myself closely to see what might make sense over the remainder of 2020.