I’ve got to wear Spandex, meet interesting people and suck in the early morning air.

I’ve managed to traipse through mud, improve my PB and do good as a volunteer.

On Saturday I completed my 100^th parkrun at Gilloolys, the sprawling parkland on the eastern edge of Joburg where cormorants, African darters and grey heron are a soothing presence.

As milestones go, it’s one I’m most proud of. I’m not a natural runner and cold mornings aren’t my forté, but the parkrun community is nothing if not welcoming and entirely proletarian. I had my first 5km parkrun at Delta Park a few years ago and was immediately hooked. Old, young, fast, slow, wobbly, thin . . . all types are accommodated. I’ve even seen guys whizz by with prams, no doubt carrying wide-eyed toddlers.

I managed 80-odd runs at Delta and mixed in a few others, too, like Umhlanga, Modderfontein and Victoria Lake. A few months ago I settled on the newly-instituted Gilloolys run both for the proximity to home and the more enjoyable course (Delta has a “Little Pollys” that is positively hell).

In recent months I’ve been joined by my older daughter Jess and her boyfriend Reuben, both of whom amble through the 5km run with the insouciant air of young lovers, which I guess they are.

Two weeks ago was an all-family affair as my youngest son Alexei, aged three, joined us for the first time, together with my youngest daughter Daniella, who is eight. Kostya, the ageing, ever-handsome golden retriever, also trotted along. With many dogs about, it inevitably becomes a friendly sniff-fest for the animals. He likes it.

It was more a case of ‘park carry’, but that wasn’t the point. The half-run, half-walk in the fresh air was invigorating and constituted terrific family time.

Bruce Fordyce, the great energy behind the South African parkruns, has often popped up at various venues. Each time I see him I marvel at what a phenomenon the parkrun initiative is, made all the better by not having to dodge cars and cyclists. It’s the perfect fit for South Africans (and others) given their affinity for the outdoors and a good gabber.

The volunteers who dot the course doing various jobs are unfailingly supportive and dead funny, shouting encouragement and ensuring that no-one takes things too seriously. They help make it special.

You get your insane running fanatics with their jet shoes, but in the main it is an opportunity for a broad mix of people (and animals) to loosen the legs in an atmosphere of camaraderie and good humour.

I’ve since gone on to run a couple of 10km races and half marathons. I also do frequent trots around my neighbourhood in an effort to keep healthy and in shape.

I have no illusions of grandeur. I keep returning to parkrun because we’re all more or less equal and the good time with social runners is probably better than any good time on the watch.

Now, at last, I have the lesser-spotted ‘100’ shirt. I’ll treasure it.