John,
I’m going to talk to you directly. Like Laura said in church, it seems easier.
The Hardmoors 110 in 2009 was the hardest race of my life… and I wasn’t even running it. I was supporting you for goodness sake!
Remember me getting you to change into road shoes at Robin Hoods Bay, because I knew it would help a little?
Remember guessing the number of steps back up the next cliff each time? It made it less of a climb as we counted and laughed at my uncanny ability to guess more accurately than you each and every time?
Remember how I gave you all my extra layers because you were cold, whilst I shivered?
Remember walking down to the beach, then walking back up again because we’d gone the wrong way?
Remember being lost in Scarborough? Jon Steele eventually rescuing us when, if not for a phone call to Ian Beattie, we may have given up. I remember the hurt in my chest at the disappointment in your voice at the thought of a DNF, but I didn’t know what else to say. Thank you Ian!
Remember how we both lay down and Caroline had to force us both to get up and get moving? Then later, I sat down, exhausted as we roamed around trying to find the finish, me stating, ‘when you find it, come back and get me!’
Remember, what a brilliant weekend that was?! The best of adventures! One of so many.
You promised me, though. You promised me you’d return the favour. You promised me, but now you’ve gone!
When we recorded a message for you in hospital, I didn’t know what to say. I don’t really know what I did say, but I know it involved that treasured memory of the Hardmoors, and that I will run it for you, John. I will, and I know you’ll be with me in spirit, but I’m so disappointed you won’t be there in person, to loiter around the public toilets on Scarborough sea front late at night whilst I poo, as I did for you!
We really got to know each other when we both ran for Kilbarchan AAC and I heard about you running the West Highland Way. Me & Caroline had walked it previously, and whilst sitting in the Drovers Inn at the end of day two, heard about this guy, ‘Jez Bragg’ that ran it in 15 hours! Crazy, but here you were, doing the same thing, running the WHW! I came up to support on the day and never looked back. Incidentally, your sub 20 times were something to be hugely proud of!
I signed up the next year. My ‘qualifying experience’ when I filled in the paper form to post off to Dario was? ‘Well, I know John Kynaston’. The rest as they say, is history.
You were the most supportive person I have ever known, as well as a little competitive! So, when I told you of my sub 19 hour plan for my second WHW Race, even you questioned my sanity, licking your lips at the prospect of cruising past me 60 miles in like the year before. However, when I proved you wrong, you seemed happier about my performance than you did about your own PB. You burst into the changing rooms, hugging me whilst I was naked in the shower!
But of course you would. You spent your life taking pleasure in seeing others achieve. In knowing that you, Husband, Dad, Grandad, Brother, friend, teacher, colleague, acquaintance, and even stranger, in whatever way you could, had helped someone to reach their goal. That’s why you were so special.
You were family to us. Your family are all family to us, and we promise to look out for Katrina, the girls, and their families. If we can ever be of help to them, we will. It was an honour to share a small part of your life along side them, and to be at the service for you, when they were all able to draw on their faith to be so strong.
You’ve broken social media by the way! You have impacted so many lives, that Facebook & Twitter are, ‘literally’, all about you. Even Marathon Talk posted about you buggering off too soon, AND, put a link to your blog from the post when you talked about getting a mention. I know you’re smiling about that one!
Your Sister spoke of you going to Villa Park, aged 10, for an FA Cup semi final with your beloved Everton… but they lost, and you never got over it. I never knew that, but it made me so happy to know that you had travelled with me & Pete, to see my team, Bradford City, in the 2nd leg of the League Cup Semi-Final in 2013, at Villa Park, and that we won! You supported City that evening as if they were your own, even donning the claret & amber colours. When Hanson scored, it seemed your passion was equal to mine. Now I know why!
I’m really annoyed with you for not coming for a run on my local trails, you’d have loved them, but I am so grateful for all the miles we did run together. There’s been runs when you were quicker than me, and runs when I was quicker than you, but we always understood that we ran together. Side by side, and they were always a pleasure. I’ll miss being able to run with you again. Hollie said, “washing dishes & long car journeys are good for heart to hearts”, well so are long runs. Our last couple of runs together were awesome, and I’m so pleased it was just the two of us. I’ll treasure them.
I won’t mention beating you in a final sprint to the line in the National Cross Country in Falkirk. No matter how close we were as friends, I think we both know we would never have held hands over a finish line. ‘Eyeballs out’, John, even at parkrun when I had the buggy!
You loved Caroline & Harrison like they were your own, and for that I am grateful. A Robin came and sat next to Harrison on a tree branch in Rouken Glen Park the day you left us. I told him it was you saying goodbye. He was so chuffed! Aged 4, I know he’ll remember you. We’ll make sure he does.
Do you know why I shivered whilst you wore my extra layers during the Hardmoors that year? It’s because I loved you John, and I never got the chance to tell you so. We all did.
If there’s a race in heaven, my ‘guess your time’ entry is a DNF, and you know why.
…I just bloody wish you hadn’t!
We’ll miss you immensely x
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