Once in a blue June.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

55 ways to leave your blubber.

In a few months, I turn 55. This an age of significance for many in my workplace, the government broadcasting service here in Australia. Those who began working here prior to 1990 had the opportunity to join a particular government-run defined benefits superannuation scheme. Defined benefit schemes in general are like a golden goose for anyone intending to live to a very old age, because when you retire they pay out for life no matter how long you live, and then to your spouse if you die before them. Compared to most superannuation schemes which are simple cash accumulation funds and which run out all too soon unless you take a very meagre pension, these are schemes to (ahem) die for.

However, for those who joined the scheme I'm referring to, life is even better, because there was a loophole in methods used to calculate your pension which meant that if you resigned about one month before turning 55, and then announced your retirement one month later, the loophole in pension calculations meant you could retire on about the same pension as if you had continued working until age 60. So of course the vast majority of people in that scheme did exactly that, and over the last 10 - 15 years I have seen a steady stream of colleagues hit the magic 54 years and 11 months of age and say 'adios', disappearing into the land of retirement with a huge dollar-shaped smile on their face, still in the prime of life (or very nearly) and leaving those of us in other, less generous schemes pondering the unfairness of it all as we faced the prospect of working at least ten years longer whilst contributing into a different scheme for far less return. I mean, it just doesn't make much sense, but of course good luck to those that were fortunate enough to benefit from this odd but extremely generous gratuity.

So, with my own 55th birthday soon to come and go whilst I continue beavering away with no prospect of hanging up my dust jacket anytime soon*, it's time once again to consider my life's journey and the goals I wish to meet along the way. If I am to continue working for a living, then the old work/life balance takes on ever greater significance as the stresses and strains of shift work make life that much harder. Running is still a great joy, but the physical demands of permanent, rotating shift work are not to be dismissed lightly. The state of more-or-less permanent jet lag and the quicksand of accumulated fatigue ensure that motivation for anything, least of all running is never easy to find, and for that reason my running habit has never been a daily routine as work and the general demands of life constantly push the daily jog somewhere well down the to-do list where it often languishes unreached.

To help overcome this I generally enter a few races each year which gives me a goal or two to focus on and a reason to train, rather than it being just another item on the list of things that need to be done each day. Some goals, such as any form of marathon are often just too huge, requiring too much effort that is too difficult to find in the fog of general everyday living, but occasionally they manage to avoid complete disintegration and a modest collection of race bibs and finisher's medals have slowly accumulated over the years, and more importantly have kept me in generally pretty good health despite the rigours of work.

Some race goals motivate me because I know those particular races and enjoy competing in them. Others are a particular challenge, such as any full distance marathon. Still others are motivating simply because I have never raced them before, while others are such brutes that I am motivated to train for them and put in a better effort than previously. One such race of course is the 21.4km continuous uphill challenge that is the annual Point to Pinnacle. This race I have entered four times, and four times I have completed the event never being entirely satisfied that I gave it my best shot. On race day I did my best, of that I am sure, but the weeks of training leading up the race have never gone entirely well. This year's event is now 20 weeks away, and I have already committed to run it once again, mainly to encourage second son Stephen, who is entering for a third time to bolster his own fitness.

Just a few weeks ago I was on a bit of a runner's high, having recently completed two half marathons and in my enthusiasm I was then looking at a whole gaggle of other races to enter for the remainder of the year. Life however has a habit of getting in the way of grandiose schemes and the reality is that if I am not to burn out completely and disappear without trace in the Mary Celeste of training schedules, then I need to remain focussed on one major goal and work toward that to the exclusion of other extraneous and largely unnecessary races.

I am therefore as of today embarking on a 20 week programme designed to get me to the Point to Pinnacle finish line on top of Mount Wellington (now more officially known by its indigenous aboriginal name kunanyi) in what I trust will be a personal best time. Key to my training will be the treadmill, the only reliable and simple way of training on a continuous uphill slope. My new beast will even simulate the Point to Pinnacle course for me, and so I am toying with the idea of 'running' the course each fortnight, or even perhaps each week over the next twenty weeks as my scheduled long run. I say 'run' the course each week, but the truth is that I have yet to entirely run the complete course at all, as it is just too brutal. But also therein lies my thinking: to be sure large sections will need to be walked in the early weeks, and perhaps the majority of the course will even be at an amble. But perhaps also it will be the best method of actually gaining the leg strength and endurance necessary to finally run the entire thing. And if I can do that, then perhaps I may one day properly retire from the work force, knowing in my heart that at least once in my life I actually completed the P2P and ran the entire sodding thing.

Now that really would be something. In fact for me, that would be a huge something.

And so that's the plan. And in case you were wondering, I turn 55 just four or so weeks before race day.

Here we go.



* I don't really have a dust jacket.