A poxy start

The new year has started where the old one left off: with not quite sparkling health. Both the gym and the running have suffered. I have managed two runs this year, neither of any great quality. Still. Luxury problems.

I know it’s a mantra I have trotted out a few times here, but dosing up on paracetamol whilst waiting for a virus to pass through, and taking a few days off training is hardly hardship. I’m not fleeing the Middle East leaving behind a bombed-out shell of a country behind. Or stuck with an unpayable mortgage, as many are shackled with in these parts. Or indeed any of many other hardships you care to mention.

No. On the contrary, many of the things I take for granted are luxuries in other parts of the world. And that’s about as close as I get to some form of spiritual epiphany.

The next big thing on the calendar by way of athletic endeavour is the Donadea 50k Race on 11th February. It’s a straightforward looped event of ten laps of 5k each in the sylvan setting of a north Kildare woodland. And it’s you against the clock, as there is a sweeper behind you all the time, tipping along at a steady 30 minutes per 5k. It sounds manageable from my comfy office seat as I tap it out on the keyboard, but the truth is more prosaic. It’s a war of attrition. And I fear, for me, that it’s come at least a month too early.

Still, it’s booked now, and I plan to get back out this evening for a run, to see what sort of damage has been wrought by the unwanted layoff over Christmas.

Lock up the Year, 2016

Above is one of the few ‘official’ photos from the recent half-marathon with myself and Mark. (That’s us bringing up the rear, in case you were confused). The two ladies in front were part of a group of four that kept us ticking along a decent pace. Left to our own devices, I suspect we may have dropped the pace a little. It’s always good to have a marker in a long event like this (especially when your Garmin dies halfway through…).

Typically, I avoid obvious new year’s resolutions. I figure if I’m not already doing it, I probably won’t do it anyway. Or worse, it will be a half-arsed effort at something that will peter out, mid-February. But one thing that has become a tradition is the annual office clean-up, as without doubt, the approaching holiday season and related activities such as gift-wrapping tend to see my home office become a lumber room. Less of a tidy and more of an archaeological dig, I even found my Mother’s foot spa in the corner yesterday. Seriously; that has to go.

This all came out of the desk tidy. Epic fail.

I also discovered that I have a worktop to my right. This is good news, and it will come in handy for preparing paper and other materials for projects, which is why I put it there in the first place (as opposed to creating yet another flat surface for attracting general office detritus). Even with an unlimited supply of filing cabinets and shelving (I put in two more shelves over the break) I would still leave stuff on any available flat surface (to be filed at a later date).

And speaking of things finding their way to surfaces, Holly the Cocker Spaniel took her new, sleek look off to the bedroom the other day. This may be revenge for getting scalped mid-Winter, or maybe she was just cold. But she sure has a nose for clean sheets. These were only on the bed a few hours and she found them, and snuggled in. Bless.


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