My sleep is consistently inconsistent at the moment. It appears that I can only get a good night’s sleep when I am so tired from the previous night’s insomnia. On that basis, tonight should be another fitful couple of hours here and there, ready for a solid 11-7 on Sunday night into Monday morning. Given that I have had one of the best weeks at work for a long time – including an excellent reaction to a course I delivered with a colleague in Leeds – it is puzzling to wonder how or why I fail to achieve peace at night. What I would give for a consistent 6 or 7 hours sleep every night for a while.
A day and a half away from the office up north for that course meant a large stack of emails on my return. It also meant a much busier Friday than usual with that and some meetings arranged by others given the absence on Tuesday and Wednesday. That is not to criticise them – if they need me for half an hour or an hour then what are they to do? But the inability to finish everything I needed to (and I have remembered two other tasks since that I forgot to do) before early evening meant that my goal of a regular Friday walk went out of the window and splatted on the pavement this week.
So Saturday it was. Still not clear why this sleep pattern has come about. I’ve never been an easy sleeper but this feels odd to me. At a time when most work related things are going well, I seem to have work on my mind a lot, worrying about and imagining things that are very unlikely to happen. For someone who has dealt with assessment of risk for much of my working life, I’m apparently not assessing my own risks very astutely, it appears. It feels as if sometimes I am losing control of my own mind, though I can comfort myself with the thought that if I know that I am thinking I am going mad, I probably am not. One day I really will beat myself up.
And…..rewind. So Saturday it was. Likely to be the only walking day this weekend so good to make the most of it. Except that getting going on a Saturday morning, or any morning come to think of it, is not my thing. Faffing about like a faffing thing at the World Faffing Convention in Faffsville, Arizona and a start just before 11:45. Except that 100 yards down the road I decided that I didn’t need my cap, so turned around, went home and threw it in the house before setting out again. Two minutes later the sun was out and I bravely resisted the temptation to go back for re-hatting. The afternoon settled down to be grey and chilly except for 20 minutes light rain and, after an early and fairly short coffee break, racked up the miles. No incidents of great note apart from in a side road as I felt the presence behind me of three lads with combined age less than mine, and I crossed the road while easing into a speed walk for half a mile to reach the main road, changing my planned route. Again, my assessment of risk might have been a bit awry. They are probably really nice lads and going to get at least one or two GCSEs.
I can’t say that I felt really tired today but it was a pretty steady average pace for me overall. I wasn’t too troubled or breathless by the haul up Sarisbury hill that often appears at the end of my walks. That rack of mine I was talking about? 21 miles. I’m obviously becoming fitter – in body if not in mind.