Gut bust August.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

Positive vibes, man.

We have had some seriously beautiful weather here in recent days. It is still cool at night, but the days are nothing short of glorious. Warm, but not hot, and sunny. The early signs of spring are in the air, but with none of the humidity or insect life that so often conspire to ruin the otherwise wonderful summer that's soon to come. Given that we still have two official weeks of winter left, this early spring teaser is both pleasant and very surprising. Perhaps there's an underlying stern confirmation of global warming inherent in it, but for now I'm taking it at face value and just trying to enjoy it.

I say I'm trying to, because of course, on these rare and precious days when one should just say 'to hell with everything!', and get out there and enjoy all that climate change has to give, I am instead consigned to the dark satanic mill that is my workplace and so still yet I have to run in the dark anonymous pre-dawn murk.

Oh, woe is me.

Well, in fact, no. The reason I don't acknowledge that the cosmos will continue on regardless even if I decided to skip work for a day and should therefore do so, is this: the height of my insanity is becoming ever more stratospheric as I actually look forward to and enjoy these super-early outings. As I am often wide awake by 4 a.m. in any case, it is really little trouble to get up and go running, rather than tossing and turning, thinking only of the day ahead and wondering how long I have until the alarm goes off. That the run and the endorphin buzz it produces sets me up for another day when not even the nihilistic, psychopathic overlords of my work can upset me makes missing out on the weather much easier to bear.

There is also good news and further motivation in that I have turned that first, important comeback corner. Weight and flab have both suddenly turned in the right direction, and my pace and distance run have also taken a positive leap. I covered a comfortable 8km yesterday morning at a slightly quicker pace, and this despite stopping twice for 'technical shoe adjustments', i.e. my sock was scrunched uncomfortably in the toe end of my left plod box. It has taken much longer than usual to recover some of my loosely called 'form' but now I seem to be, if not crunching it, at least sneaking up on it and stealing the ball occasionally.

Over the years my numerous returns to the running fold following a lapse are rarely well constructed, and this one is no exception, but at least progress can be seen, and I intend to build upon it. Perhaps there won't be any great race goal as such for a while, but there are constant reminders now as I approach 55 years of age that this is important. Just two days ago at work a colleague succumbed to a stroke at the age of just 66 whilst on the job. He loves his work, and though he survived the stroke his chances of returning to the career he loves seems now to be greatly diminished. He is not an unfit man, and it just serves to remind that life is fickle. Maybe running in the pre-dawn hours won't change the inevitable, but I'm pretty sure it has to help. And as the weather improves, so it becomes easier. I'd be a fool to ignore the opportunity.

Erm...