I'd woken up groggy, with less energy than a sleepy sloth as I laced up my running shoes and headed to the Parkrun. I hadn't been expecting anything, but ever since my last Parkrun event, I'd been skeptical about whether I'd be of any help, seeing as to how terribly I believed I performed as a Marshal whose cheers were quieter than a jellyfish underwater. But I quickly realised that my presence was enough.

Simply smiling and being present — acknowledging the runners — was enough to motivate them to continue on with their tiresome laps. It was the small moments in between: the simple conversations exchanged between volunteers who'd just met each other for the first time or the ones who knew each other too well; the awkward yet endearing 'Thank you, Marshal!'; the amount of 'cheers!'s and 'have a great weekend!'s said; the quiet recognition that everyone was fully present, running and walking alongside each other on the same pathway in order to keep this event going. It felt like community: a home where you didn't need to be perfect — you just needed to be there. I wouldn't call this experience 'life-changing', as I believe it would ruin its truth. No, it was something more beautiful. It was peace.