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RE: My my, it's July.
Old trees and walking shoes.
By nature I am neither a raging optimist, nor a morose pessimist. I like to think I traverse a line of balanced realism, and yet it's true to say that if sitting on a fence is difficult for extended periods, then walking that precarious line is even more difficult again.
So when three unexpected weeks of night shift threw the proverbial spanner into the works of the machine I laughingly call a finely-tuned training schedule, it was no great surprise and caused no great alarm nor any gnashing of teeth in the MLCMM household.
As if to consolidate the negativity of that period, number two son, Stephen, has now announced a work-related hip injury which, whilst healing, is doing so at such a pedestrian pace that his training for this year's Point to Pinnacle race in November is unlikely to commence in time for the big event. In other words, unless a miracle occurs in the next few days, the race, for us, is already over. Entries open on August 1st and pretty quickly close again, the race usually being fully subscribed within a day or two.
To be honest it was with a slight sense of relief that I received this news. Whilst disappointing to close the lid before even seriously opening it on what would have been my fifth attempt at the noble mountain climb, to be relieved of the pressure of training for the event is not unwelcome, and has enabled me to take a more relaxed approach to my fitness regime. And so I have been substituting long, brisk walks in recent days which are genuinely pleasant and no trouble to undertake, even after the moral-sapping, life-leeching extremes of the dreaded night shifts.
And so it was today that after rising in the afternoon to find the day cold but calm and sunny, and having consumed a generous measure of café la vie don with Mrs MLCMM I 'donned' the walking shoes and hit the streets intent on re-visiting some long-ignored running routes and discovering some new ones, albeit at a walking pace and intent on enjoying the surrounds. This, as it turned out, was something of a revelation. I discovered a 400 year old eucalypt alongside a creek not so very far from home. This may not arouse much excitement in other parts of the world, but here in metropolitan Sydney it's really quite something. To know this tree was standing, already an old specimen, before the Europeans arrived is special enough, but to have further survived the encroachment of a city of five million people is truly staggering. The tree carries an indigenous, aboriginal name, but of those occupants nothing seems to remain other than the name they gave to this tree. Nearby houses pay homage to its presence with patios and verandas carefully positioned to afford a view of this noble gum tree.
Speaking of houses, I spent some time admiring many of the fine abodes lining many of the streets through which I run. Some I have run past many, many times without ever appreciating their magnificence, but today I made amends. Also, I rediscovered some lost pathways and explored completely new ones, all fodder for future, stress-free runs, just as soon as I get through this latest batch of night shifts.
As an antidote to a world seemingly gone mad just at the moment, this was just the ticket.
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My my, it's July.
