Diddly December

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

With no ill effects from my first test run, I ran again today. Once more it was just a slow and simple run, but the key thing is that I jogged non-stop for 25 minutes with not a skerrick of complaint from the foot, other than a low, dull ache that now more-or-less resides there permanently. This is most satisfying and not a little encouraging.

It comes at a time when I most need it. I'm still constantly tired from excessive shift work and we're running headlong into another dispute with our management that may yet see us back in court. We've held the peace for over two years now, but after a pretty good period of cease-fire changes are afoot once again, seemingly identical to those which started the troubles back in 2016. We have a first big all-in meeting tomorrow (at the start of a 12-hour shift for me), with little to no clear idea of what management has in store for us, other than the fact that they seemed pretty keen to get our whole team in the room at very short notice: a pretty impossible task at the best of times. Whilst that sounds a little ominous, I think it's going to be a fairly tame information session, but one can never be quite sure about what they're thinking, as it nearly always defies logic and generally lacks common sense. At this time of year uncertainty is less than ideal, of course, but with a little luck and some goodwill around the board table perhaps we'll yet have reason to smile a little. The reality however is more probably that negotiations will drag on for months and create some serious ill-will.

This is why it was particularly gratifying to complete another successful run today, for running is the principle means by which I can survive through these times of uncertainty, mistrust and the general kind of back-stabbing that plagues working life these days.

It's an interesting, albeit far smaller parallel to the Brexit shenanigans being carried out in the House of Commons as I write this. Having only very recently acquired my own British passport, I am even more interested to follow the drama. With friends and relatives on both sides of the equation, I'm trying to keep an objectively neutral, but keen eye on proceedings, but I more often than not just end up shaking my head in disbelief. How on earth did it get like this?

I suppose, like the mysterious appearance of my plantar fasciosis, some things in life just defy explanation.