The sneaky thing I’ve been able to achieve to accomplish most of this years Janathon running is the incorporation of them into my working day. All above board and legit, I’ve a few weekends worked which I can’t take off in lieu since I’ve also 9 days holiday to take before the end of February and also can’t be paid for because it’s not allowed. So I agreed with the director that I’d take them running.
The un-sneaky thing is that I can’t really do a days work with an hour lopped off the middle bit.
The advantage is that I can be loads more productive without disturbance and tonight, after 5 o’clock, I had the joy of extracting a million cross-referenced dimensions from 3 AutoCad drawings to set out 4 back gardens and 5 manholes first thing tomorrow morning.
The joy was that, with everyone gone home, I also had the pleasure of the internet to supply me with some (awful audio quality but beggars can’t be choosers, I’m told) music. Tonight that was a trip down memory lane and a little sample of the Clash followed by a teaser of the Sex Pistols washed down with some ancient Iron Maiden. A superb way to end the day. On the way home I surprised myself with how old I’ve become. Listening to the radio some particularly awful music came on. I switched channels. And again. Then realised I’ve only programmed four of my radio presets. I don’t enjoy enough stations to preset any more. Radio 2 is preset 2 but breakfast is too noisy and it’s only really Ken Bruce and Simon Mayo who interest me, so Radio Kent (preset 5) for a bit news and to annoy me in the morning before I start to get angry at their negative attitude (I know I’m Mr. negative but I like positivity in others; Steve Ladner is the exception but now he’s on in the afternoon I rarely get the pleasure) when I switch to Radio 4 (preset 6) where things normally now stay. But I get annoyed at the massive variation in loudness, as though the speaker is leaning repeatedly in and out from the microphone (they all seem to do it; John Humphrys is the worst despite being one of my favourites in the morning) and all I want to do is listen to what they have to say, not either deafen myself to enable listening to the quiet bits or keep turning the volume up and down, so my local back-up station is preset 4 and AHBS (Ashford Hospital Broadcasting Service Community Radio…a catchy name if ever there was one, eh?!). When these fail, it’s cd time.
It was the appalling tunes on the way home that made me realise I’ve two spare pre-sets and no intention of using them. I realised when I turned the radio off rather than putting on a cd that I’m old. The dawning was that,, despite the vehicle having mp3 compatibility and the ability to connect a phone wirelessly and all sorts, I’ve no desire for any of them. I have a vinyl, cd and tape collection that contains all the music I like. I don’t need any more. Much more depressing, I don’t want any more.
Unless something comes on the radio that I don’t know, I think I’ll be happily stuck in a musical vortex of ignorance for eternity. I used to wonder how it felt before recorded music was available to entertain, bring emotion, cause debate and bring wonder to the ears. I now think I’ve exhausted my desire to indulge the one thing that anyone before the last half century or so might have killed for.
None of this and less entered my mind as I ran. I left work after 4, arrived back shortly before 5 but was still in the daylight (snowy banks keeping it light more than the days being that long, I think). I got cold (bitter wind) and wet (running water down the main lanes, minor lanes ventured down but all full of slush/ice mix which soaked feet and legs with every pace) and tired because I was concentrating on staying upright and let the pace pick up inadvertantly. My legs are still ruined (if not worse) and took a mile to work again but it’s another run done. One closer to February. And rest.
Ahh, rest. Yes please.