By DAVID MYTON
The Hills district in Sydney’s northwest isn’t called the Hills district for nothing. It’s got hills: big ones, little ones, long ones, short ones – and I’ve run up and down most of them.
On a recent early morning as I struggled up a long, steep gradient I was about ready to pack it in and walk home.
My heartbeat had switched modes from reliable Ringo to manic Keith Moon. My lungs and legs were sending “end this lunacy” messages to my brain.
And then a young man emerged over the crest of the rise, running in a seemingly effortless athletic cruise.
As he drew close he clocked my sweat-streaked septuagenarian’s face, slowed down, flashed a thousand watt smile, double thumbs-upped me, and said: “You’ve got this buddy”.
And you know what? I had.
Thanks to that serendipitous support, I ran that hill and several more like it until another 5k was under the belt.
The Fellowship of the Run had been at work again. It can be salutary nod, a thumbs up, a smile, a wave, or a “cheers mate”: whatever it takes to convey encouragement.
The Fellowship is also at work on social media: running/exerciser apps such as Strava not only GPS track your runs (including distance, topography, weather, and comparative performance) they also allow encouragement of others via a digital thumbs-up, hearts, and comments.
Today’s Sydney – in fact almost any city anywhere - is overrun with runners, in groups or single, and of all ages. You can see them early morning, late at night, and any time in between.
Why do they do it? Lots of reasons, including no reason – they just do.
Open the door and hit the road
But some motivations may include maintaining or improving fitness, challenging themselves with longer distances or faster speeds, they find it relaxing, they enjoy the so-called “runners high” fuelled by deep breathing and extra oxygen, and/or it’s a boost to their eco-psychology, that emotional link we find we have with the Earth and nature.
Running is relatively cheap and easy – at the least all you need is a pair of decent shoes. Then open the door and hit the road.
I started about eight years ago. I’ve had a few injuries on the way, mostly muscle strains from overdoing it by ignoring the fact that I’m in the autumn of life.
So as much as I am determined to not go gentle into that good night, I’ve learnt that rest is just as important as the run, and so limit my distance to between 15-20k each week; and never run more than three times a week. And that seems to work in the avoiding injuries department.
The Fellowship of the Run owes much to an amazing global collective enterprise that has boomed over the past 10 years or so. It's called Parkrun – and it is what it says on the tin.
It’s the world’s largest running event with millions – from the really swift to the barely ambulant – participating in free, timed 5k runs held in parks across the globe every Saturday.
Volunteers are the everyday heroes
In my part of the world runs are held at numerous venues in Sydney and in some 470 towns and cities Australia-wide.
Volunteers – the everyday heroes of the piece - do all the organising, an amazing feat in itself.
Parkrun was the brain-child of Englishman Paul Sinton-Hewitt, who organised the first at Bushy Park, Teddington in west London in 2004 with the aim of creating “a healthier, happier planet”.
“Right from the word go we refused to call it a race, it was a run, and we said you can run with your dog and you can push a buggy,” says Sinton-Hewitt.
“I think those things together made it possible for people who traditionally felt excluded from competition to feel included.”
My regular venue is the Parramatta Parkrun held at George Kendall Riverside Park in Ermington, Sydney, and which generally attracts north of 300 people of all ages and standards. Many bring their kids, and/or their dogs.
Some runners take it very seriously, others not so much. All kinds of people do it for all kinds of reasons – and they all fit in. It’s that kind of Fellowship.
It’s a brilliant experience – inspirational, fun, uplifting, motivational and, for all that, incredibly simple: just put one foot in front of the other and run.