My sister’s new hobby changed her life – and mine

It only took eight years, three house moves, two jobs, and one pandemic. 

Just 2,821 days to run 50 parkruns.

While that’s roughly one every two months, it also perfectly sums up the joy of this weekly running club.

My older sister Caroline and I started our parkrun journey on the same day back in 2016. She was more of a treadmill runner until I nagged her into trying the fresh air version just once, on my birthday. 

I’d read all about it and mostly ran on my own at the time, whether out for a light jog or training for a half-marathon, so thought it would be nice to be a bit more sociable (this was in the days before run clubs were the new Tinder!).

Almost 300 miles apart, Caroline in Whitley Bay while I was at Mile End, we lined up for our first free 5km runs.

It was pretty cool I thought, bar the distracting smell of KFC halfway through the course, traversed four times in a figure-of-eight. I’d probably go back, I decided.

I did. Once.

But for Caroline, it was a little bit life-changing. 

Not only did she become hooked on parkrun – on run 222 and counting – she came to love outdoor running, and now has countless half-marathons and two full marathons under her belt. 

Her training for this year’s New York marathon will ramp up soon, too. 

I, meanwhile, have continued my rather more casual love affair with parkrun – although running and I are pretty serious, with a marathon under my belt and another lined up.

A move to Shoreditch left me between events, location-wise, but a semi-regular meet-up with friends at Highbury Fields led me to take on its helter-skelter five-lap parkrun course seven times (once behind Rob Delaney).

After three years, I relocated south of the river to Rotherhithe, where Southwark parkrun was my local – a lovely flat, leafy course with wide paths.

It was here that I racked up most of my runs, 24 in total, and where I 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 a free Saturday morning wasn’t. I’ve always run, it was the only sport I was good at at school, running painfully long distances in the cold while our PE teacher cycled along behind shouting, erm, encouragement.

But as an adult, life gets in the way a lot – or sometimes you just need a lie in on a Saturday, and that’s fine too.

The most recent move took me to Catford, and its own beautiful event. Set in Mountsfield Park and offering scenic views across the city, this surprisingly muddy and hilly course is a challenge, but still open to everyone. 

As with every parkrun, there’s no pressure, no judgment. Not only is no one bothered how fast you run, or what you wear, there’s also no register, literal or metaphorical, checking your commitment to the cause.

It’s why, as someone fairly competitive (excessively so at times) 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 as 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 organised a shout out for me, sending up a big cheer before the countdown began – reminding 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.

If it’s not on Strava, did it even happen?

Tech issues were quickly replaced by sweat issues, as 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’ll try not 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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