This week, we were back at Everton Park and quickly split into two groups. Thanks Miriam and Aatefa for the two reports!

Litterpicking

Myself, Jo, Lucien, Craig and Clara went off to do the litterpicking at the bottom of the park. Apparently this stretch of the park is where fans from all over the world walk through from the city centre to get to Anfield so it has to look presentable to showcase Liverpool. The litter was prolific. Mostly sweet wrappers and plastic bags and lots of bottles but reward for unusual find goes to Jo who found a plastic elephant, she also found a birds nest and a clothing wrack. In an hour we collected eight sack fulls of rubbish. We took them to the community skip. On the way back to the gardens we saw a brightly painted skate park and a newly opened kids parked. It’s easy to see what a rich community Everton is and we felt glad to be able to contribute.

The Verdant Verdict: A Chronicle of Ten GoodGymers in Everton

In the heart of Everton, where the city's pulse beats a steady rhythm against the hum of nature, a fellowship of ten gathered as the day began its gentle descent into dusk. They were the GoodGymers, a modern-day band of heroes whose strength was not measured in muscle alone, but in the collective will to cultivate community. Their destination was the Everton Community Garden, a cherished green sanctuary that had called upon their aid. And as the sun cast its final, golden rays upon the garden's entrance, casting long, dancing shadows across the earth, the ten assembled, each having answered the call in their own noble fashion.

For some, the journey was a quiet pilgrimage through the amber-lit streets, their footsteps soft upon the pavement as they walked with thoughtful purpose through the cooling evening air. For others, it was a pedal-powered odyssey, wheels turning in rhythm with the city's gentle twilight hum. And for two among their number, it was a spirited run, a rhythmic pounding of trainers against the tarmac as they made their way from Suitcases, that beloved landmark upon Hope Street, their breath keeping time with Liverpool's own steady pulse, until they arrived at the verdant embrace of Everton Park just as the evening began to unfurl its velvet cloak. Yet, regardless of the path each had trodden, they all converged as one, a tapestry of diverse faces, ten unique stories, united by a singular and noble purpose. Each arrival was met with warmth, for every journey, whether by foot, by wheel, or by run, was a gift of time and energy freely offered to the community they cherished, offered not in the brightness of morning, but in the quiet generosity of an evening given to service.

The air was thick with the scent of damp earth and the promise of an evening's noble toil. The cool breeze carried whispers of the day's fading warmth, and the garden seemed to sigh with anticipation. The session commenced not with the clang of a bell, but with the welcoming words of the Run leader, his voice carrying gently through the twilight. A special warmth filled the air as Hasan was introduced, a bright new star in their constellation of volunteers. His first session was marked by a chorus of greetings, a genuine embrace from the entire group, officially welcoming him into the fold. Every member, whether they had walked, cycled, or run to be there, offered him a beaming smile and a hand of friendship, for they knew that the strength of their fellowship lay not in how they arrived, but in the fact that they had arrived at all, sacrificing their evening hours for a cause greater than themselves.

With the pleasantries exchanged, the tone turned to one of thoughtful preparation. A comprehensive safety briefing was delivered, its words carefully chosen and heeded, outlining the careful choreography of the evening's activities. The group listened with intent, ten pairs of eyes fixed upon their leader in the fading light, understanding that the true essence of their work lay not in reckless haste, but in mindful and considered effort, especially as the evening shadows grew longer. The plan was set: a two-pronged assault on the garden's ills, with the ultimate goal of restoring its inherent grace before nightfall claimed the sky.

The fellowship was then cleaved into two groups of five, each embarking on a distinct quest, and each member, whether they had arrived on foot, on two wheels, or on two swift legs, was entrusted with a role of equal importance.

The first quintet, armed with grabbers and bin bags, began their meticulous sweep beneath the amber sky. They were the "Litter Knights," banishing the forgotten wrappers and stray detritus that had dared to mar the garden's beauty. Their work was a silent conversation with the earth, a reclaiming of its purity as the daylight slowly surrendered to dusk. Every piece of litter collected was a small victory, and every member of this group, be they walker, cyclist, or runner, contributed with equal diligence and pride, their efforts illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun.

Simultaneously, the second group of five, equipped with sturdy tools and unwavering resolve, turned their attention to a grander task. They ventured into the adjacent areas of Everton, not to fell, but to liberate. Their mission was to clear the space around "Chree Trees," a term that seemed to hum with the spirit of the old Everton, ensuring these leafy sentinels could breathe freely and stand tall against the urban sprawl. With each branch cleared and each weed uprooted, they restored dignity to the ancient trees, their silhouettes stark and beautiful against the evening sky. Every member of this group, whether they had arrived by foot, by cycle, or by run, worked with equal passion and strength, their labour a quiet offering to the encroaching night.

And so, for a time, the symphony of labour played on as the evening deepened around them: the whisper of leaves as branches were cleared, the soft clink of litter meeting its metal container, the steady breath of the runners now restored, the gentle hum of conversation, and the shared camaraderie of a team working in perfect harmony against the fading light. Each member, regardless of how they had arrived, found their place in this beautiful orchestra of effort. The journey from Suitcases, the stroll from nearby streets, the cycle from distant corners, all became threads in a single tapestry of community spirit, each thread equally vital to the whole, woven together as the stars began to peek through the darkening canopy above.

As the evening sky deepened into a canvas of indigo and the first stars began to twinkle, the two groups concluded their respective campaigns. Their work was a resounding success. The littered pathways were once again pristine, and the areas around the ancient trees were cleared, allowing the moonlight to soon dapple the ground in silver patterns. The garden and its surrounding spaces now breathed a sigh of relief, their innate beauty coaxed back to the surface by the gentle hands of their caretakers, even as darkness settled around them. And every single member, walker, cyclist, and runner alike, could look upon the transformation and know that their contribution, however great or small, had been indispensable.

The final, glorious act of the evening was the reunion. Both groups, their spirits high and their work complete, converged once more in the heart of the Everton Community Garden, now bathed in the soft glow of street lamps and the gentle light of a rising moon. They stood together, a fellowship of ten, surveying their handiwork, a transformed landscape that stood as a testament to what a community can achieve when every member gives their all, even as the day gives way to night. No distinction was made between those who had walked, those who had cycled, or those who had run; all were celebrated equally, for each had brought their own unique gift to the evening. With farewells exchanged beneath the stars, promises to return, and hearts overflowing with quiet pride, each member began their journey home, the walkers strolling with satisfied steps through the lamplit streets, the cyclists pedalling with renewed vigour into the cool night air, and the two runners turning back towards Suitcases on Hope Street, their legs carrying them home through the darkened city with the sweet fatigue of an evening well spent. But whether they travelled by foot, by wheel, or by run, they all carried with them the same treasure: the joy of service, the warmth of fellowship, and the quiet satisfaction of a job beautifully done under the watchful gaze of the evening sky.

In that moment of collective reflection, surrounded by the fruits of their labour and the gentle hush of night, one thing was clear:

It was a truly tree-mendous effort.

Seven intrepid goodgymmers braved the heatwave to lend a hand at the German Church to help the prepare for their Sommerfest.

Whilst gathering before the task we were treated to a little history lesson, learning that the post box on the street was one of only two in existence to have Edward VIII engraved on it.

We were then guided through the church to a surprisingly large and tranquil garden, a real oasis in the city. This is were Sommerfest takes place and were we given the task of clearing as much foliage as possible to make way for the guests. We soldiered on in the heat and were quickly able to see the difference!

Well done to everyone, the church volunteers were so pleased with the progress! Here's hoping the Sommerfest went well.

Six GoodGymers brightened Princes Park on Saturday morning, joining the parkrun community for a dose of fresh air, friendly faces, and plenty of positive energy.

While some were running, others were cheering, chatting, and helping create the welcoming atmosphere that makes parkrun such a special event. Our red shirts were once again highly visible around the park, demonstrating that GoodGym is not just about getting active but also about building connections and spreading positivity wherever we go. The visibility certainly seemed to pay off. Two women approached us during the morning to find out more about GoodGym. It was wonderful to share what we do and how running can be a force for good. Hopefully, we've helped a few new friendships get off to a running start.

With parkrun complete and appetites gathering pace, we split into two groups and made our way towards Squash. After all, while we may enjoy chasing personal bests, there comes a point when breakfast becomes the real finish line. At Squash, we quickly got down to the important business of collecting stickers and, perhaps even more importantly, squashing our hunger. Hot drinks appeared, breakfasts arrived, and conversations flowed as freely as the coffee.

As always, the real magic of these mornings wasn't measured in kilometres or finish times. It was found in the laughter around the table, the stories shared between friends, and the simple pleasure of spending time together. Because, as we were gently reminded, community is built not only through organised activities but also through moments of connection.

From Princes Park to Squash, the morning was packed with smiles, community spirit, and plenty of food for thought. It was a reminder that every time GoodGym turns up, we don't just make tracks around the park, we leave a positive footprint in the community too. Here's to many more mornings of running, chatting, sticker collecting, and proving that the shortest distance between strangers is often a friendly conversation.

After a week of glorious sunshine, Goodgym decided to take Parkrun on holiday and venture over to Manchester to try a new course, Worsley Woods, as highly recommended by Goodgymer Amina. After travelling by train and car share, we met up in a cafe then headed over to the car park. After a carefully manœuvred parallel park by myself (I was told to add this), we trotted up to the start line where a friendly local explained the 'lollipop' shaped course to us.

The run began, and we set off on an old railway line, thankfully shaded by the trees, before turning off on to a trail through the woods where we ran past brooks and over bridges. Out of the three parkrun I've done, this was the most beautiful by far! As we reassembled at the finish, it turned out Vikky had taken a bit of a tumble in the woods but we were able to get antiseptic wipes and make sure she was ok. Overall, everyone remarked how nice the run had been, despite some tales of woe!

After the run we found a local cafe and we ate brunch while planning the next parkrun trip before heading off to enjoy the rest of the day.