Schleptember

[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.