On 14 March 2020 when we all said goodbye at the end of the four hundred and first Southampton parkrun none of us could have guessed that it would be more than sixteen months before we’d see parkrun number 402. In those sixteen months, the world had changed. We had all become conditioned to wearing masks, keeping our distance, touching nothing and disinfecting everything. The logistics of organising an event with hundreds of people running in close proximity, queueing for tokens and handing over barcodes was a nightmare.
Thankfully, the task of working out how to run the event safely and what changes to make to do so fell to Event Director, Rob Kelly and his team of Run Directors and volunteers, not to me, although I was party to some of the fevered discussions about how it should be done. The big concern was numbers. In normal circumstances Southampton parkrun is one of the biggest in the country. Would the return of our weekly 5k run see record numbers that might be difficult to deal with, or would no one turn up for fear of the virus? As it happened, just 561 runners turned up, along with 56 stalwart volunteers who made the whole thing possible. Commando ran and volunteered, as he usually does, but I chickened out, not because of COVID, but because of the weather. After a night of terrific thunderstorms and a forecast for rain, not to mention the possibility of the Common resembling the Somme, I decided to stay in bed.
It wasn’t until event 403, on 31 July 2021, that I finally stepped through the Bellemoor gate again. Because Commando had volunteered to help with the set up we were extra early but, luckily, the weather was kinder than it had been the week before and we wandered down towards the flats enjoying the greenery and the musky smell of damp earth. As it happened, 7:48 was a little too early to arrive. When we reached the flats, there was no cart, no poles, tape, or flags and no set up crew. The whole place was deserted apart from one intrepid dog walker. I couldn’t help thinking I could have had a few extra minutes in bed.
After standing around for a while scratching our heads and wondering if the whole thing had been called off and no one had bothered to tell us, we headed back towards the Keeper’s Cottage. We found Matt pushing the cart out of the gates and Rob deep in conversation with Ian, the park keeper. Rob and his long rambling conversations are legendary.
The week before, Commando had given me a full run down of the changes that had been made to keep Southampton parkrun as safe as it could be. Nothing quite prepared me for the extra long finish funnel though. It stretched off so far into the distance I wondered if the set up team were aiming for some kind of world record. There were also a few issues when the wind whooshing across the flats started blowing the poles over and trying to rearrange things. This caused a great deal of extra running up and down for the team.
There was one thing I hadn’t been able to get my head around. Commando had told me that, to keep everyone as socially distanced as possible at the start, the runners had been spread out in a long line across the grass and had to funnel onto the path as the run began. He said it made the start much better. I couldn’t quite imagine it. Even as I watched everyone line up, I couldn’t see how they were all going to merge onto the path without clattering into that extra long finish funnel or ending up in the trees and ditches on the other side of the flats.
Usually, I wander off on my walk before the start but I was so curious about how it could possibly work that I hung around to watch this time. Rob gave his usual pre race talk, then shouted three, two one, GO and the stampede began. Sensibly, I’d decided to stand well out of the way, but I was particularly concerned about a few people hanging about on the grass, especially a man with a little dog who looked to be in danger of being trampled to death at any moment. Briefly, I considered shouting out to him to point out the danger.
As it happens, I’m glad I kept my mouth shut. The whole thing worked like magic. Somehow, before they were even halfway across the field, the runners had all merged into a line and were on the path. The man and the dog were safe. I stood and watched them all disappearing towards Bellemoor corner, hardly able to believe what I’d just seen.
Along with changes to the start and finish, there had been a few changes made to the usual course to avoid fast and slow runners going in opposite directions at certain points. A couple of weeks earlier, I’d been on the Common while Commando, Rob and a few others had had a practise run of these changes. While they ran in circles, I’d taken a little wander in the cemetery and noticed that the gate on the corner near Hill Lane had been unlocked. This seemed like good news as it would give me an alternative route to walk on a Saturday morning.
My plan for that morning was to cross the field to my usual gate, walk through the cemetery to the unlocked gate, go through it and then head up to Bellemoor corner to watch the runners. As I walked, I imagined all the different routes this gate would open up to me. The best of these was avoiding the muddy winter tramp across the field to get into the cemetery on parkrun days, and being able to make a circuit of the cemetery without using the muddy trail parallel with Cemetery Lake on wet days. It was a great plan, right up to the moment when I reached the gate and found it was locked again. What a disappointment.
The locked gate had scuppered my plans so I had to make a swift route recalculation. In the end I followed the boundary wall along Hill Lane towards Cemetery Road. Of course I stopped a few times to look at interesting graves. The first belonged to William and Margaret Pothecary and their daughter, Daisy. Kelly’s tells me this is probably the same William Pothecary who owned a fruiterers shop in St Marys Street in the late 1800’s. The surname caught my eye because it was one I used for a character in my second novel, A Land Fit For Heroes, but more of that another time.
The second grave belonged to John Ditchburn, who was chief engineer for P&O and died in 1878 aged just fifty. In 1840, P&O was the first deep-sea shipping line to use the port of Southampton, so I would imagine John was quite an important man. He lived in Providence Place, St Marys Street in the 1860’s.
Next I came to the family grave of Ethel Maude Newman, the lady visitor who kept an eye on the Titanic Widows for almost thirty years. Miss Newman plays a pivotal role in my novel Plagued and, if you want to know more, her story is in another post here. The cobalt blue glass chippings on her grave always catch my eye when I pass.
Smiling, I left Miss Newman behind and followed the line of Cemetery Road towards the main gate. This took me past what is probably the most elaborate grave in the whole cemetery. It is certainly the only walk in monument, and was built by Araline Gamlen Nicholas for her son, Richard Nicholas, in 1901. Araline’s interesting and tragic story can be found here.
By this time I was close to the gate and soon the scent or roses caught my attention. The beautiful aroma was wafting on the breeze from the roses around the door of the little chapel. One of the things I love about walking through this cemetery is the ever changing flora, and summer is one of the nicest times to visit.
Sadly, my time was running out. A quick glance at my watch told me Commando was likely to already be somewhere in the longest finish funnel in the world, so, reluctantly, I made my way back towards the flats without any further stops. When I reached the gate I could see the park runners in the distance. After more than sixteen months, walking back across the flats to the finish line felt like a much needed hint of normality.
If you like what I write and would like to help me keep doing it, you can now buy me a virtual coffee by clicking on the little orange coffee cup at the bottom right. If you’re interested in my historic novels, Plagued is available now on Amazon.