It seems that parkrun is about the only running I do at the moment – damn knee!

A few months ago, we noted with some interest that a new parkrun was starting in Cornwall. We initially planned to head down for the inaugural, but things didn’t work out (and besides, inaugural tourism is a bit frowned upon by some!) As inevitably happens, weekends were filled with other things, but we eventually opted to simply book a hotel and that would be that.

We started following the event on Twitter and Facebook, and got a bit worried when, a week before our visit, this happened:

“Regrettably we have had to take the decision to cancel today’s event. The course is blocked by a fallen tree.” Posted by Mount Edgcumbe parkrun on 5 March 2016 at 07:20.

Cue some panicking, and deliberation on alternatives – Lanhydrock or Plym Valley? The latter seemed more logical, but actually, from the hotel we were staying at, right next to Mount Edgcumbe Country Park, both were similar distances.

In the end, all the worry was for nothing. The weather eased off towards the end of the week, and on Friday evening, the event Facebook feed confirmed that the morning’s run was on!

On Saturday morning we woke up to glorious weather. We woke up earlier than we would have liked – but that’s what happens when you stay in a hotel with a toddler. Or indeed, stay anywhere with a toddler. All the stormy weather from earlier in the week had disappeared, and instead it was a beautiful, warm sunny morning with barely a breath of wind.

After a small breakfast in the hotel (mostly for the benefit of aforementioned toddler) we drove down to the recommended car park and tried to work out where we were meant to go. There was a small cluster of people on the path near the entrance to the park, but nowhere near as many as we would have expected to see at ten to nine! It turned out that most people met up by the house, where the run finished, and then walked down. It was something of a Flash parkrun (see abradypus’ parkrun jargon buster), and I’d be lying if I said that we weren’t a little worried.

Start in the trees, and finish at the house. Uphill course, but not too bad. Oh, and you go via the top of the hill too…

We assumed that we would have missed the briefing, but no, that took place at the start line, so all was good! Without too much ceremony or fanfare, the briefing finished with an immediate “3-2-1-Go!”

If Carlsberg made parkrun starts…

Running with the buggy I often get frustrated at having to start at the back of the field, and then spend the rest of the race weaving through runners, and this is typically worst at the start, for obvious reasons. But at Mount Edgcumbe, the combination of a small field and a wide path meant that I had done all my major overtaking in the first 200 metres, and thereafter I could just run at my own pace. Well, walk and run.

I’d done a bit of research on the course. A tiny bit. I knew that:

1. The course involved a hill.
2. The course was off-road.

That was it. I didn’t know how much of a hill, nor how off-road the course was. Had I done, I might well have refused to run it with the buggy. After an initial run along the coast which was relatively flat, (far hillier that our entire home parkrun), the course turned inland and uphill. The subsequent mile was in fact, with brief two interludes, all uphill. Now, I don’t mind hills, and compared to the average runner, I probably actually quite enjoy them. But that isn’t necessarily the case when I’m pushing a buggy, and the terrain gets pretty rugged.

I dropped to a walk quite a few times, and I have to admit that it probably took away from the stunning surrounds. The entire of Mount Edgcumbe Country Park is absolutely beautiful, and I can tell you without reservation that the best way to enjoy it is not pushing a buggy up the damned hill as fast as you can manage. Even in my exhaustion (I kid you not, it’s only a parkrun, but that was among the hardest effort I’ve exerted on any run) I was able to take in a fair bit as we navigated up a series of switchbacks to reach the summit. Once at the top of the hill, I had to pause to take a couple of photos, it would have been criminal not to. Oh, and the accompanying rest was pretty handy too.

The climb was definitely worth it for the views. Probably better in the other direction, but my photos that way are embarrassingly out of focus…

The course took a long loop around a field on top of the hill, giving you a good chance to look in each direction, before it dropped back down the hill, going back down the same paths we’d just climbed up. While the climb up the hill had been a tough calf workout, the descent was all about the triceps as I tried to make sure that buggy, toddler and runner all went in the same direction as the path. My daughter didn’t really enjoy this bit; the rough terrain at speed just resulted in a very bumpy ride, and I don’t blame her for moaning a couple of times here that she wanted to get out and walk.

With about half a kilometre to go, the route splits from the ascent to make its way to the finish by the house, but there is one last hill to climb first. Again, I have to admit that I dropped to a walk, but I managed to push myself back to a run for the final 50 metres to the finish line. My time was awful, but this isn’t a course where you can pay much attention to your time, and to be honest, it isn’t one where you should care much. The park is too beautiful.

On finishing, I found out that I was first buggy, ever, and the run director asked me how I’d found it. In summary: very difficult. I run with a buggy fairly often, and at a number of different parkruns, and this was by far the hardest place I’ve run with it. I would only really recommend it for people experienced at running with a buggy. Apart from anything else, if you chose this as the first place to run with a buggy, I don’t think you’d ever try it again!

Annoyingly, she’s never willing to get out and push me during the run.

This was one of the two most scenic parkruns that I’ve done, (I’m not sure anything will compare with the ‘Wow’ of emerging onto the coastal path during Penrose parkrun), and almost certainly the most difficult. I’d recommend this event to everyone, and I’d love to try the course again without the buggy at some point just to see how I could do, but who knows; with so many parkruns still unvisited…

The small field (just 49 runners) and single lap course did make it a slightly lonely run, but as always, the marshals were all outstanding, and the atmosphere in the café afterwards (10% off with presentation of your barcode) was as jovial as you’d expect. All in all, a great event in a wonderful location.