Mark’s Run Report by Jonathan Marks
Saturday night
Running clothes are out. Check.
Correct blue club vest top. Check.
Layers. Check.
Water bottle ready. Check.
I can go to bed.
Sunday morning
I leave home to jog gently up to the chalet in Wytham Woods. Leave home at 8.40am – plenty of time. But I forget just how long it takes to jog even to the gate at the bottom of the track. Then that long haul up the hill into the woods. I see no-one. Where is everyone? Surely there should be some other roadrunners jogging up? I was expecting a community of people ahead of me – sweating their way up the hil!! Have I made a mistake? Right day? Have I got the right time? Maybe I should have left earlier!! ……. Eventually …- I pass Graham running the other way as he warms up. Phew. All good. Make a mental note Jonathan – you are getting slower each year – leave more time to jog up from home to the chalet!!!
As I reach the chalet – a familiar and re-assuring sea of blue shirts and familiar faces. Chatter abounds – last years’ events, the last few runs, how cold it is this morning etc. etc. There is a buzz of expectation in the air.
The call comes out and we walk down to the starting point at the beginning of ‘Singing Way’. And marked by Mark’s Tree. I was there when the tree was planted. Could it really have been 5 years ago?
And as we are just about to set off – a lovely thing. Basia wanted to say a few words to remember Mark. She says in particular about how she was not able to speak at that first Mark’s Run. But the time had come – she wanted to say something on this morning. She spoke and finished with a beautiful poem. And even while we were getting cold, this felt right, and we were happy that Basia could speak and we were all grateful.
And so to the briefest of countdown and we are off. As usual, I have that experience of club members who I appreciate and call friends striding off into the distance. There is nothing new in this(!) It was a cold but dry morning, and for myself, the run is uneventful. Kathryn came past – we chatted for a bit – and then she was away. The grass in the woods seems to become just a tiny bit slippier each year. And yes, that haul up into the woods from the Botley Gate is as tough as it ever was – only the gradient seems to get that tiny bit steeper each year – can that be right?
It was lovely to be cheered up to the finish line by those who were already there. Job done. Smile.
The breakfast at the Jolly Sportsman was every bit as good as I remember it – sausages, egg, bacon, beans, hash browns, mushrooms, toast, tea. In a cosy warm pub. Things to make the heart of an Englishman sing. And all in the company of friends. Eynsham Roadrunners.
Thank-you to the stewards, and thank-you to the organisers. It is a privilege to honour the memory of Mark as we run out our hearts with friends, and share in the joy of a full English breakfast.
Jonathan Marks
