Parkrun: from 'eugh' to smug

Oh I am partial to a Parkrun. Specifically I right like the bit after you’ve done it. That sweet-as after event when you can be smug and eat a fit breakfast. You get me. Be under no illusions, an alarm going off on a Saturday morning alongside the sound of splattering rain against the window does not make for an appealing weekend morning jaunt. To be fair, even if it’s not pissing it down it can be a bit of a battle of wills to get my arse out of bed and into my sports clobber. But hey, have I ever done a Parkrun I’ve regretted? Nup. Not even when I’ve retched into the bushes because I’ve plodded too hard. Reality is, Parkrun is reet ruddy good. The hardest bit is dragging yourself out of your weekend pit, after that it’s all aboard the Smugtown Express. Yeeha! Just for your reference, I am the worst pre-Parkrun grump…