Schleptember

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Too early for the damn worm.

It's spring and the sun is quite definitely rising earlier, and extremely welcome it is too. However, I was still up way too early to see even a glimmer of the dawn, let alone for this early bird to catch any damned worms. It was another night of too little sleep and an early start at work, so I had little choice but to attempt my scheduled run despite ... everything.

To be sure it was just a short little outing. I had made that quite clear to myself before heading out. I was determined to have something to put in the running log, but it wasn't going to be a great or lengthy run. But you know, despite being just a little shy of 3km, it felt fantastic to have achieved even that much, albeit a greater accomplishment of discipline than anything resembling a run as such.

Surprisingly, it still set me up for the day, and a tough day at that, including as it did another meeting with the bosses and their lawyer. I trundled through it all feeling happy and relaxed, thanks entirely to having made the early morning effort out on the darkened streets in my running shorts and shoes, not thinking about work, but about Almeria.

And ain't that what it's all about?

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

It's Sunday.

Sunday should, according to most training schedules, be long, slow run day. However today it's my Friday, my working week being Wednesday through Sunday this week, and I have time for just one desultory short, slow run before running through the shower, falling into my work clothes and collapsing onto the train which will take me to work.

As a run it was less than brilliant, my spreadsheet telling me that my pace today was the slowest in nearly three weeks. Being my 'Friday' however, and buggered with it, it's nothing to worry about. It was my fourth run for the week and gave me a modest total of a little over 20km across the four runs. Not, you might say, anything to actually write about, but there you go. Modest as it is, that's where I'm at, and at this early stage of the campaign it's completely fine. I mean, at least I'm getting out there a few times each week. Pace and distance will come automatically as the discipline turns to routine.

Right. Tuesday then will be my 'long' slow day ... probably no more than 10km or so at this stage, but that's also fine.

We're getting there. It feels a bit like pulling off a Band-Aid very slowly, but that's OK; there's no rush. There's plenty of time..!

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

No debate.

As Hilary and Donald slugged it out to decide who would be the least worst next U.S. president, I trundled through a lazy, easy 10km 'long' run today. I was thinking not of the world political stage, but as the kilometres ticked by I could only think how strange it seemed that just a few weeks ago I was wrapping up my second half marathon race for the year, and now here I was contemplating that a mere 10km had somehow suddenly resembled a 'long run'.

It's no longer the case that I can simply pick up where I left off if I take a break from running for a while. Now it means starting over and building gradually, all the while being wary of over-doing things and thus creating trouble for joints, muscles and ligaments, all of which now protest that this all seems a bit ridiculous. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm still young, and have another 30 years of running left in me, at least.

The truth of the matter is that the run today went really well. Slow, steady and no problem at all. In such  circumstances, it is tempting to ramp things up a little and to try and push the envelope, as it were. However, experience and the warning signs of whimpering knees, and rather more alarmingly, a deep seated, dull ache in my left hip remind me that if I really do want to run for another three decades (and I do!) then I need to be mindful of building gradually and maintaining a steady, moderate discipline of regular running. I mean, forget the two half marathon races earlier in the year, that was all so long ago. I slacked off and now have to put in a steady, disciplined approach to regaining some form and fitness once more.

It's just common sense, of course. But then, as my mother always said ... well never mind what she said. Let's just say she was right about a lot of things. Things that I decided to ignore at the time and instead learn the hard way, and still do to this day, some four decades on.

But getting back to the Donald and Hilary show, which I also ignored, perhaps also to my detriment, who yet knows. I note that the betting market, which for all its faults is generally the most useful source of genuinely useful probabilities of events and world affairs, has Mr Trump at very long odds. That doesn't mean I'm necessarily putting money on Mrs Clinton to win, but I do rest a little easier for knowing it's unlikely that the old orange-haired misogynistic racist with the strange but memorable name will assume power.

And even if he does, I'll still have my running to keep me sane. Just as long as I stick with it.