To a running mouse

Why is Sod's Law such a sod?

I've committed to training for my 35th marathon (to be run sometime later this year) after a 4+ year break from running.

As a result, I've dragged myself out a number of times over the last 3 to 4 weeks and managed to stagger and stumble from 3 km to 5 km to 7 km to a splendid 9.4 km last Saturday.

Notwithstanding that I'm overweight and out of condition, it has been psychologically wonderful to be out again in the early morning Winter darkness, running in snow, frost, howling winds, rain and the occasional calm weather.

Monday morning this week was a steady 7 km around my new home village of Hartford, Cheshire.

Tuesday morning I started with a sore throat that has now quickly developed into a full-blown chest infection.

Even I know that it's very unwise to run in that condition - so my plans to explore Taunton yesterday and The Aztec, Bristol the next three days have fallen flat on their face.

Even Phillippa and Rachel were challenging me to a 6 km on Saturday morning, as we are going to enjoy a belated Christmas dinner here in "Brizzle" on Friday evening.

And so, on Burn's Night, I reflect:

But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,

In proving foresight may be vain;

The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men

Gang aft agley,

An’lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,

For promis’d joy!