Snouts in the Trough
If you didn't care what happened to me,
And I didn't care for you,
We would zig zag our way through the boredom and pain
Occasionally glancing up through the rain.
Wondering which of the buggars to blame
And watching for pigs on the wing.
(Pink Floyd - Pigs on the Wing, Part One)
The latest round of work hassles are gathering like a perfect storm. The machinations of the psychopaths that inhabit the lower and middle levels of management at my place of employment have brought me to a perfect understanding of how Nazi Germany came to be; for there are at every turn seemingly ordinary people who are more than willing to don the leather and the jackboots, clicking their heels and silently rehearsing the title
obersturmbannführer with which they have anointed themselves. They then lay into the workers with their refined sense of arrogant disregard for the basic tenets of humanity, seeking only to fulfil their sad, empty, soulless lives with hatred and vitriol, cunningly disguised as agile management systems and six sigma standard deviation charts which are incomprehensible to them but to which they pledge allegiance like some latter day managerial swastika.
The depths of depravity to which humanity can sink is not now found in the red light district of Amsterdam or the slums of Soweto. It is on the boards and in the meeting rooms of the corporate world, where the demise of caring, professional and loyal workers are plotted with infinite care and precision by their management, their laughing, corporate snouts all the while plunging deep into the troughs of plenty provided by tax payers and shareholders alike.
It is fortunate then that I have similarly plunged deep into the trough of half marathon training, with today's very tough hill climb successfully sweating out the anxiety, stress and angst that is now regrettably synonymous with my working days and nights.
Motivation, like optimism and pessimism, has a tendency to feed upon itself, and I am so very glad my motivation is strong just now, and that the troubles of work only further fuel that determination to train hard and well and which enables me to focus on the things that truly matter, and over which I have some control. Last time these employment headaches reached a boiling point I was not so motivated to train, and so instead ended on the medical treadmill of doctors and psychologists. Whilst they were mildly helpful, to be fair, the one thing they insisted would be enormously beneficial would be to return to running with a vengeance. They were, of course, correct, but at the time it was almost impossible to dig deep enough to find the motivation I required.
This time, it's different. I am already in the thick of training, and with two recent races successfully completed I am fit, healthy and fully ready to ramp up the training to prepare not just for the next race, but to overcome the poison I absorb daily in the toxic environment of my workplace.
Running most definitely is the answer.
My three bosses.