From what I’ve witnessed, the running community is a strong, supportive one; we look out for each other and we understand each other.
On Sunday, runner David Colley, 58, from Hull, died during the Great North Run half marathon. He collapsed during the last mile. David had competed in a number of Great North Runs previously and was familiar with the experience.
I, along with many others, was shocked and saddened by this news. I can only imagine how his friends and family must be feeling during this very sad time.
Runners are strong, determined folk, and many of us run for charities. There is a real sense of community; I don’t belong got a running club, but I still feel it. When I’m out running and see a fellow runner, we both smile and nod. If I pass a struggling walker during a running event, I offer words of encouragement – and I’ve had the same in return. At a Rye 10K event recently, a runner tapped me on the elbow at 8K and shouted that I’d been her marker throughout and had kept me going. When I slowed at 9K with knee troubles, she slowed for me. I didn’t know her and I’ll never see her again. It doesn’t matter – we’re all in it together, and we all need support. We’re all crazy loons, pushing ourselves to the max.
My father spent his retirement volunteering at the Bluebell Railway, building train tracks, mixing cement – doing huge amounts of manual labour. He passed away very suddenly from a heart attack. He was fit and healthy, and it was quite honestly the biggest shock we’ve ever had. However, he passed away whilst being involved with something he really loved, and had always held a passion for.
We don’t yet know what caused David Colley’s death, and I don’t know him, but I like to think that he passed away whilst doing something he really enjoyed.
I don’t really know what the point of this blog post is, but I was thinking about the events of Sunday, and it started a wave of emotion and a train of thought. I will continue to embrace my hobbies and live for the moment; and I really hope others haven’t been put off running. Just now, I’ll be doing a minutes silence for fellow runner David Colley.