Mawson Dickson

I turn up on Saturday mornings for the same reasons as everyone else: fresh air, familiar faces, and the possibility that this week my legs will cooperate. Afterwards there's coffee, which is more reliable.

This is where I write about parkrun and the people who make it worth coming back. Forgotten barcodes. Volunteer rosters. Personal bests, and perfectly good mornings that don't involve one. You learn a surprising amount about people over five kilometres and a second coffee.

Enough, sometimes, to wonder whether they've told you the whole story.

That's where the mysteries come in.