This Sunday, me and Rachel decided to do a GoodGym community mission and volunteer as marshals for the Hove Park Junior Parkrun. A wholesome start to the morning — helping the local community, cheering on young runners, and getting a bit of fresh air. What could go wrong?

As I made my way to the park, I started thinking about my own running. You see, I always seem to end up last in my age category at Parkrun (well, they call it age grade, which somehow sounds even worse). And as a 39-year-old staring down the next age bracket, I can’t say I’m particularly excited about it.

Then it hit me: Why volunteer when I could just run the Junior Parkrun and win? It’s a shorter distance, right? Surely, I could take gold!

In my head, I lined up at the start, ready to show those under-14s how it’s done. The whistle blew — and off I went. Run, run, Forrest, run! Parents shouted something (probably words of encouragement, maybe not), but with my headphones in, I didn’t care. I was flying. Some gave me looks — clearly just jealous of my speed.

And as I reached the finish line, I did it. I won! Because age is just a number, and the sky is the limit.

…Did that actually happen? No. Did I end up marshalling as planned? Yes. Was all that just a vivid daydream while clapping and cheering from my post? Absolutely.

Still, it was a brilliant morning — great atmosphere, enthusiastic runners, and plenty of smiles. I’ll definitely be back to marshal again. (Though I’m still slightly amazed they let me.)