And so, I completed my fourth consecutive stupidly early short run of the week. I must say, when I woke at 3:40 a.m. and climbed out of bed I was genuinely beginning to doubt my own sanity, but believe it or not, once out on the streets I felt tremendous and the run was very enjoyable. It was just slightly less warm and humid today, and curiously, the muscle soreness I felt yesterday was largely gone, so there you go, it is possible to run through aching, tired muscles. I just took it slow and steady and it wasn’t a problem. It’s only taken me 15 years to discover that. Hmm.

   Not so enjoyable was watching Scottish tennis champ Andy Murray in tears today as he described the ongoing pain from his hip injury and how the Australian Open beginning next Monday may well be his last tournament, and even if he gets through that then Wimbledon in July will almost certainly see him retire from the sport, a sad end to an incredible career.

   I am hoping my far less stellar, more sedate form of athleticism will counter the lack of Murray-brilliance by continuing for much longer.

  Endurance of another kind was celebrated today at work when it was confirmed that we had survived seven years of hell with the announcement that an especially hated manager had finally been given the boot after costing us millions of dollars in failed projects and years of lies, deceit and general sociopathic behaviour. So well received was the news that we immediately purchased champagne and celebrated in style, and soon discovered our colleagues right around the country had been doing the same. To say a weight had been lifted from our shoulders would be an understatement, and the sense of relief was palpable.
   Happy days!

   Yesterday’s good news at work resulted in much celebration, which continued with drinks after work and again in the evening. So, it was no great surprise when I jumped on the scales this morning and discovered I had gained a whole extra kilo of weight since yesterday. But what deliciously sweet poundage it was, with no regrets at all.

   Even so, and despite the ongoing heat which presented itself as 33°C and the usual high humidity, it did make me resolve to round out the week with a slow, gentle plod on the treadmill, it being far too hot to consider running outside. We don’t have air-conditioning, so it was still ridiculously hellish on the treadmill, but at least I could put on a fan at full force to provide some relief. Another 45 minutes of genuine running therefore gets added to the running log, and with it comes a smug sense of satisfaction: a good week of running overlaying the tremendous good news at work. A red-letter week, you might say.

   But I could probably do with a rest day now. Maybe even two.

   Anyhow, it did seem sensible to take the day off, but I compensated with some gardening and quite a lot of walking again. I walk a lot anyhow, and I think this helps my running more than I have appreciated in the past. I certainly seem to be seeing the benefits just now.

   We shall see how keen I feel again tomorrow. Today was warm again, but perhaps not quite so bad. Tomorrow will see the hot, steamy sauna-like conditions continue, and as I won’t arise until the afternoon (following night shift) my scheduled run will be in the hottest part of the day, so I’ll just see how well I sleep and how terrible the conditions are. It isn’t that I’m dreaming up excuses not to run, it’s just a need to be remain sensible about it. One bad run due to a stupid choice is enough to derail me and kill off the enthusiasm I have built recently.

   But I’m keen.

    The warm, muggy weather continues. I wanted to get a run of an hour in today, but it was so hot and I so tired that I eventually settled on thirty minutes as a reasonable compromise. But I did manage a stack of walking as well which is encouraging.

   Other than that, there’s not too much to report. Ah! Except, of course, for the ongoing battle with the caterpillars which is seemingly in its final stages now, with just a few stragglers to hunt down and destroy. We’re on the alert instead for the emerging moths from the larvae that we’ve missed and which are worryingly absent thus far. I fear I’ll wake one morning and find the house full of them. It’s all very high tension stuff here, as you can imagine. Hitchcock would have a field day with all this: the struggling shift-working wanna-be runner, the infernal heat and the unstoppable menace of the invasion of the tiger moths. With a score by Bernard Herrmann, of course.

   In drama of another kind, the Australian Open tennis championship started today, the standout story being the ousting of Andy Murray in the opening round in five sets by the Spaniard Roberto Bautista Agut. Murray had already indicated the pain from his seriously injured hip was now so bad that the Australian Open could well be his final appearance on the tour. Clearly he was in pain throughout the match, but in his usual style battled on. It’s sad to see a champion forced out by injury, and especially tragic to see him denied the chance to win his first Australian Open, a tournament he’s been runner-up in no less than five times.

   Regardless of what happens next (he says major surgery is now his only option, with no guarantees of any success), his inspiration will remain. A true champion.

   The very hot, supremely muggy weather continues with even worse conditions forecast for the rest of the week. An early start seemed warranted, so after seeing Mrs MLCMM breakfasted and sent off with lunch packed to work, I hit the treadmill for a one-hour run before the heat became too severe. It was still hard going, but at least now I have a few recent runs completed which helped see me through. Slow and unremarkable are these runs certainly, but at this stage of proceedings I’m looking primarily for easy, base-building mileage, and it’s working well, with little muscle soreness to worry about, and which makes running on consecutive days surprisingly manageable.

   We’re fifteen days into the year and I’ve surprised myself by running on ten of them, which is a pretty good start for me. It’s early days yet, but running more frequently does seem to help keep some sort of momentum, so I’ll persist and see how we get on.

   This weather though is a killer.

   And so, the debacle continues. No, not my running, nor the heat and caterpillars, although they do, in fact, continue. Especially the heat, which is relentless. But no, I refer to the two political stories dominating the news of late; that of Brexit and the government shutdown in the U.S. With Theresa May's Brexit deal soundly defeated in the House of Commons and Donald Trump resorting to buying buying fast food out of his own (not inconsiderable) pocket to feed White House staffers, it does seem as if the world has finally, and undeniably, gone stark raving bonkers.

   Similarly, at a smaller, more local level, at my work our leaders seem to be in an endless cycle of futility as the existing executive structure breaks down, money runs dry, and we’re left with inexperienced people unable to cope with the basic daily requirements of what we do. Those of us who have lived through all this before, and who now identify ourselves as ‘The Survivors’ watch quietly from the sidelines as managers, advisors and consultants disappear up their own orifices as they spiral ever inwards until they inevitably implode with futility.

   There are no such debacles with my running, however. Just a short run was called for today, lest I overdo the base building too quickly, but a run it was and the training program (such as it is) remains intact. And in this weather, I was grateful for today’s run being a short one, but still gratified to have made the effort and in being able to enter another run into the running log.

   So, while the world seemingly goes to mush, my own little force-field soap bubble of running keeps me sane and seemingly immune to the horrors of ineptitude and greed that are running rampant out there. People at work sometimes ask me how I cope with all that is happening whilst still working insane shifts. Now when I explain that I run, and then that I write about my running and what I think about as I run, instead of a polite response overlaying their puzzled faces, they now nod in admiration as if I’ve uttered some ancient words of undeniable wisdom that suddenly all makes sense to them. Things are really that bad.

   No, in the face of the storm-force maelstrom of a world gone mad, the simple, therapeutic act of running does seem relatively sane and completely sensible.

   It’s started. They’re here.

   Yes, be very, very afraid. The invasion of the tiger moths has begun. They’re emerging from their breeding colonies in the wall cavities and roof space of our home, crawling and flying through the air vents in a flurry of orange and black. Well, OK, it’s only just started, and for the moment we have the dual invasion of the last of the caterpillars alongside the first of the moths. But it’s keeping us on our toes. We could call in the pest controllers, but that would be to admit defeat. We’re made of sterner stuff, and will beat the buggers using nothing but cunning, bravado and maybe a few cans of bug spray.

   Meantime, another short run was completed today. Although a mere fifteen minutes in duration, this was the toughest one yet, the heat and humidity now at its worst, and taking its toll on my stamina and patience. But, it was done. Tomorrow, which is forecast to be the hottest day yet of the current heatwave, will probably have to be a rest day, not just because of the heat, but because I’ve been called into work for an extra shift, on what should have been a day off. Such is life. Moths and employment mayhem.

   But the running is definitely helping.

   The heat here continues to worsen, even making news overseas. In the U.K. the Brexit debacle continues to worsen, and in the U.S. the government shutdown becomes ever more insane. And along with the ongoing heatwave here, the pesky little tiger moths still invade our home. Everything seems so negative these days, somehow.

   But bucking this trend of negativity is my running which only continues to improve. A ninety-minute run this morning was my longest since May of last year, which is a sad indictment of my claim to the title of ‘runner’, but let’s not dwell on that. It was a good, lengthy run and comfortably done, so I’m of course very happy with that. It was to be a rest day, but a last-minute change to my cancelled day off made another run possible. I had been called in to do an early shift starting at 05:30, but at the last minute this was changed to a night shift, starting at 20:30. This had the double benefit of meaning I didn’t have to turn around inside eight hours from the end of one shift and the start of the next, and also meant I could, and should, bring forward my Saturday long run to today, Friday. 

   I was a little nervous about running a (relatively) long run on what became my fifth consecutive day of running, but in fact it all went very well. It has rounded out an excellent week and my enthusiasm has, despite the intense heat of the past ten or so days, peaked higher than for a very long time.

   Let’s see how long I can keep this going. And I don’t mean that in the same way that Trump is prolonging the government shutdown, of course!

   A rest day today coincided with the coolest day we’ve had thus far this year; a relatively delightful 27°C, albeit with what has become the new fashionable, requisite, mugginess du jour of 100% humidity. With a gentle breeze it seemed almost refreshingly cool. Meanwhile, down south in Melbourne at the Australian Open tennis, German tennis champ Alexander Zverev even described the conditions there as ‘cold’ this evening in his clinical ousting of Aussie wildcard Alex Bolt in their third round match.

   It was nice not running today, but I’m keen to get back into it tomorrow.

   Wait. What?

   This enthusiasm is confusing.   

   A pleasant day, being merely warm rather than hot, and with minimal humidity which is a delightful reprieve after two weeks of extreme weather. Another 90 minutes of running was completed today; perhaps not ideal so soon after my previous ‘long’ run, but a six-day working week ahead rather dictated terms. It was the best compromise, and in the end all went rather well, albeit with nothing much to say about it, other than it was comfortably done, which is satisfying. I am conscious of not ramping the running up too fast, too soon. It’s critical that this build-up of mileage be done as carefully as possible, as any setback is going to require a lot more recovery time than has been necessary before. After such a long lay-off in the second half of last year, I need to be careful about this return to race fitness, and so far, it’s going well enough. I aim to keep it that way.

   In other news related to the onward march of time, at the Australian Open tennis there’s been a loud, clear announcement by the younger generation of players that the times are changing, with several upsets in the fourth round over established players. Perhaps the greatest player ever, Roger Federer, was ousted in four sets by young Greek tyro Stefanos Tsitsipas, while equally young American Frances Tiafoe was too good for Grigor Dmitrov. In the women’s’ draw young Aussie Ashleigh Barty came back from a set down to essentially end Maria Sharapova’s long tennis career. The net play of Tsitsipas and Barty is especially wonderful and very welcome, hopefully adding a fresh dimension to the baseline play that seems to have become the norm over recent years. Tsitsipas’s one-handed backhand is also a joy to watch, and it looks to be a very interesting few years ahead for tennis, with an end, perhaps, to the dominance of Federer, Nadal, Djokovic and Murray not so far off now.

   At least it’s all a welcome diversion from politics, which is sinking to new depths of absurdity. But more on that later.

   A true rest day; no running, and no work. And it was probably just as well for I was truly tired for much of the day. These are the days where I have to make an effort to ensure my 10,000 daily steps are completed. A truly lazy day will see me accumulate only around 4,000 steps, and these then are the days to be wary. Any normal day when I’m working and/or running, I barely have to think about it, with 10,000 steps generally being completed without having to spare a thought about it, but today required a 45 minute bout of walking just to reach the target. But there you go, job done and 21 unbroken days of my target being reached remained intact.

   After very little sleep (less than an hour) I arose at 3:40 a.m. for my early run. This was really not as difficult as it may sound, as I wasn’t properly sleeping anyway, and it was with some relief that I gave up trying and set about the business of beginning a day of running and work despite such a poor base of somnolescence.

   And with my running gear all laid out the night before it was a simple matter of slipping into the running togs and out the door before sense and pragmatism slapped me into some realisation of what I was doing. Once outside however, I was stunned into full consciousness by what was an astonishing night. It was incredibly still and silent, with not even the slightest hint of a breeze: it was so incredibly dead calm that it was quite spooky. And so quiet… unusually quiet with not even the sound of distant traffic to break the night’s sudden and surprising aphony.

   And whilst silent, yet everything was bright, with a huge, luminescent, full wolf moon hanging preposterously large in the sky and providing enough illumination to probably read by if I’d tried. And to top it off, hanging low in the south eastern sky were the planets Venus and Jupiter, close together and staggeringly brilliant. I haven’t seen Venus so bright in many years, and certainly not here in Sydney, and in such close combination with Jupiter it was a sight which more than compensated for the super early, super tired start to the day.

   With such a stunning environment pretty much all to myself, there was no issue with the business of running. I set about the task of completing two laps of my Burgoyne hill circuit shaking my head at the beauty of it all, and fiercely polishing the lenses of my glasses with my running top to better see the night sky.

   On my first lap as I turned into Burgoyne Street another surprise awaited me. Here I often disturb a fruit bat or two, who generally fly off squawking in disgust, but tonight was different. For a few moments, a bat flew silently beside me as I ran down the road, keeping level with my left shoulder as if on security detail. Usually these dark beasts are nigh on impossible to see in the dark, Burgoyne being especially badly lit, but tonight’s ultra-bright full moon meant I got a good look at my batty companion. These are large bats, about the size of a small eagle, as black as sin and which fly really very slowly and utterly silent. I’d like to say it gave me a knowing wink before flying off to see to other business, but that would be a little too fanciful. But just maybe I have at long last made a friend from among the local bat colony.

   The night of surprises wasn’t over yet, however. My short run dutifully complete, I headed home and was cleaned up, breakfasted and ready for work in short order, and was at the train station at precisely 4:52 a.m. to catch the early train. I was on the concourse about the head down the steps to the platform when a very loud crack caught my attention. Next to the train station is a bus interchange, and on the other side of that is a giant eucalyptus tree, said by some to be the largest in Sydney. About to walk down the station steps, this tree is right on my line of vision, and so at the sound of the large cracking noise I immediately looked at it in time to see the largest, main branch of the tree, itself far bigger than most average trees come crashing to the ground with a tremendous roar. Two other people on the concourse and myself just stopped dead in our tracks in disbelief at what we just witnessed, and then looked at each other not quite believing what we had seen.  

   I remember some years back an arborist explaining to me that eucalyptus frequently drop their limbs (earning them the moniker ‘widow makers’ in this part of the world), but they do so not in windy conditions as you might think, but on very still, relatively cool nights following a hot spell. Which is exactly what we had this morning.

   To actually be there at that exact moment and see such a colossal branch come crashing down capped off a bizarre, and very rare morning. I’d like to say it was the precursor to an exciting day of drama at work, but it wasn’t. In fact it was a dull day of little consequence, other than the fact that my early morning run in such amazing conditions gave me sufficient vim to easily get through the day despite the severe shortfall of sleep.

   A rare, super-bright night sky, escorting fruit bats and a giant tree dropping limbs … once again, it helps explain why I run, even at 3:45 in the morning.