It's sort of history repeating itself. 40 years ago I won a similar award, at my local football team. Garforth Villa Under 15s. In 1983 they had an inaugural award for club contribution which I won. I was never especially good at football but I used to put my heart into it. Like running now.
Winning an award is one meaning of being recognised. Another kind of being recognised is just people knowing who you are.
If you were at the awards ceremony on Friday there was a really short silence immediately after I was announced as the winner. It's probably only a millisecond but it's there. For me it seemed like a lot longer. A bit like when a goal is scored in football, the time it takes for the crowd to realise the ball is in the net. If that millisecond was in a film it would spark a flashback sequence and it would go back to 7th July 2022 and you'd see me walking into the running club for the first time.
July 2022 I knew no one in Roundhay. And no one knew me. I didn't come to Roundhay on purpose and I had no connections there, it was just the first place I could find a room to rent after a breakup. Pure dumb luck.
I mentioned at work on Friday that I was up for an award. My colleague Lynne said 'That club has been a life saver for you'. I said I don't think that's literally true. I don't believe I'd be dead without it. But whatever the next worst thing is after death, they've saved me from that.
What would that be, that next worst thing? Maybe it would be being heartbroken and alone in a new place and having no one there who knows you to talk to, no one familiar to help you. That approximates the state I found myself in in July 2022.
My mum used to say, when she was trying to reassure me after a disappointment. "As one door closes another opens" I always wanted to say, that's not how doors work Mum, sometimes when one door closes, it just closes. Without any effect on any other doors.
But instead of retrospectively trying to argue with her I tried to put down some roots in Roundhay last year by opening the door into Roundhay Runners.
Flash forward to December 2023.
In that moment of silence after my name was announced there was the fear in me that the silence would continue. That people would just turn to each other and say Jonathan? 'Who the fuck is that?'
But then came the noise. Applause, cheering, that sort of thing. , It was a kind of affirmation. Winning, but also just a feeling of being known and recognised. Proof I exist.
Chris Dearnley said being with me on Friday was like being with a minor celebrity. That's one of those compliments you need less of. Not only was it a minor celebrity but it was only "like" being with one.
Another conversation I said to Olivia. I asked her "What if this is my peak. What if this is as good as life gets?". She just said "Just enjoy it while you can then".
I still fight thoughts most days that I'm a failure. Things that outwardly seem to matter in life. Having money, a career, a family, a home, a partner, I've found ways of either not having them, or else getting them and losing them again.
But in my better moments, I believe that other things matter too. Like belonging to a community and being a welcoming and caring presence within it when new people come.
Kerrie says I'm like a meerkat on club nights. Looking out for people whose first time it is. Making sure they're acknowledged and that they'll be okay. Well, that was what was given to me and I want to pass it on.
It's very hard to objectively judge your own contribution to anything. But on Friday people kept congratulating me on my award and telling me I deserved it. The self-doubting part of me wanted to try and disprove them but then enough people said it that I started to think maybe I should just take their word for it.
