16 January 2019 15,446 steps 15 minutes running weight 79.4kg
And so, the debacle continues. No, not my running, nor the heat and caterpillars, although they do, in fact, continue. Especially the heat, which is relentless. But no, I refer to the two political stories dominating the news of late; that of Brexit and the government shutdown in the U.S. With Theresa May's Brexit deal soundly defeated in the House of Commons and Donald Trump resorting to buying buying fast food out of his own (not inconsiderable) pocket to feed White House staffers, it does seem as if the world has finally, and undeniably, gone stark raving bonkers.
Similarly, at a smaller, more local level, at my work our leaders seem to be in an endless cycle of futility as the existing executive structure breaks down, money runs dry, and we’re left with inexperienced people unable to cope with the basic daily requirements of what we do. Those of us who have lived through all this before, and who now identify ourselves as ‘The Survivors’ watch quietly from the sidelines as managers, advisors and consultants disappear up their own orifices as they spiral ever inwards until they inevitably implode with futility.
There are no such debacles with my running, however. Just a short run was called for today, lest I overdo the base building too quickly, but a run it was and the training program (such as it is) remains intact. And in this weather, I was grateful for today’s run being a short one, but still gratified to have made the effort and in being able to enter another run into the running log.
So, while the world seemingly goes to mush, my own little force-field soap bubble of running keeps me sane and seemingly immune to the horrors of ineptitude and greed that are running rampant out there. People at work sometimes ask me how I cope with all that is happening whilst still working insane shifts. Now when I explain that I run, and then that I write about my running and what I think about as I run, instead of a polite response overlaying their puzzled faces, they now nod in admiration as if I’ve uttered some ancient words of undeniable wisdom that suddenly all makes sense to them. Things are really that bad.
No, in the face of the storm-force maelstrom of a world gone mad, the simple, therapeutic act of running does seem relatively sane and completely sensible.
January 2019 ... here we go again!
