Midnight

Each day seems to be falling into the next at the moment. I suppose it’s only natural when you work from home, and the projects you’re working on require any sort of mental investment. Last Friday night I looked up from a conference call, and realised it was already 6:30pm. I think Submariners have a name for the mental distress caused by being in a confined space for too long – I’m not sure what it is.

In the interests of avoiding going completely crazy, I went for a run this morning. I only ran a few kilometres, but my mobile phone decided to go on something of a bender again – I might change my name to “Barry Allen”, based on the track it recorded around town.

I like running. I like the zen part of it when you get past the first few minutes of tiredness. I will admit to being fascinated by some of the other runners I see while out running too. I typically run in the same old pair of shorts every time, and whichever t-shirt I wore to bed the night before. In the cold weather I wear an old reflective waterproof – by own body heat builds up inside it and keeps me warm. Apparently I’m not doing it right. I regularly see people wearing ensembles that flew straight off the page of a glossy magazine. Since when was getting fit a fashion show?

I always remember going into one of the faux-fitness shops in town, and looking at leggings with my eldest daughter. She took one look, and walked from the shop, trying to suppress laughter. Yes, some people buy black leggings that cost over £100. I don’t know why, but they do. My running shoes cost £15 from Amazon…

Anyway. It’s getting late. Time to go brush my teeth, and head to bed.

2 thoughts on “Midnight

  1. I was a runner for years. I started when I was nine. My mum and dad read Cooper’s, “Aerobics” book and decided to run. I started, to keep my mum company–but was quickly hooked. We started at a mile–run together. But my parents started to run in the evening, and I preferred to run early in the morning. So, within months, I ran alone, at 5:00 am–and my distances began to lengthen. We didn’t know about the “runner’s high” back then, but I was clearly an endorphin addict. By twelve, I did a steady 3 miles a day, five days a week. This was in the late 60s, before running was a thing. Our neighbors thought we were insane. The cops used to pull me over–especially if I ran in the winter in bad weather. They wanted to know just what I was running from.

    Only an injury in my late teens changed it–I had to switch to swimming, which I did for twenty years until sidelined by an auto accident. Since then I’ve struggled to find a regime that doesn’t trigger old injuries and/or age related creakiness. Physically, I can still outwork most young people, but it’s nothing like the old days of the runners’/swimmers’ high.

    Oh and in areas where folks are largely confined indoors for the long winter months, they call it cabin fever.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Your article reinded me to do sports.
    I liked your blog very much. Sorry to read it with the help of translation, I don’t know enough English yet.

    Liked by 1 person

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