Time waits for no man

Nor would it seem does it wait for the errant blogger! This little corner of cyberspace has been home for the past eight years to varying biographical accounts of entering fatherhood, married life and the odd look back at more innocent times. I’ve written travel diaries and the odd opinion piece and random thoughts that don’t make much sense. But so far, 2013 has only seen me hit the ‘Publish’ button hit three times in anger and it’s about time I got back on track.

I’d love to say that the void since April when I wrote about our trip to Disneyland Paris has been filled with adventure, the wild and the unpredictable. But the truth, as always is a much more grounded affair. Life has been lived, work has been done and not a huge amount has happened in between. Nothing different then to the past eight years, so what has changed? In fact, nothing has changed at all except one minor little thing - I’ve stopped reading.

Working in London afforded me two hours of the day in which was solely mine, it sounds selfish but I cherished those two hours. The commute to Gravesend to Charing Cross and from Charing Cross to Gravesend is not everyone’s cup of tea, but lost inside the pages of a paperback the commute becomes whatever you want it to be.

Reading inspires me to write, it really is that simple. I’d read something poetic I’d want to write something meaningful, I’d read something inspiring I’d want to write about how it made me feel. Writing this is so much harder for the loss of literature in my life, as my brain has started to forget how sentences are formed and how words when put in the right order and punctuation in the right places can be things of beauty.

The loss of a book a week has been damaging, but only sublimely. It’s only upon analysis when I think things through too deeply that I notice, but my life has been enriched in so many other ways. I spend more time with my children. Picking Phoebe up from nursery has been an unexpected pleasure that even if I never read another book again it would still be worthwhile. The excitement and joy in her face when she sees me arriving to collect her melts the heartstrings every time and it will be a sad day when she finally grows out of it.

Falling in and out of habits comes around in cycles, a change of routine or a change of lifestyle puts those habits out of sync. For eight years I only ever read on the train. I could read at home, but I’m not used to reading at home so I don’t it. It’s stupid I know! But it’s the same as my running. I got into the habit of running once a week, ended up really enjoying it and doing something that I was proud of. I even ran for ten whole miles without stopping which if you’d have asked me two years ago I would have laughed at you. But I didn’t go one week, I forgot the next and I reverted back to type. It was only when I looked down and couldn’t see my toes again that I thought ‘hmm, I need to hit the road again’. Which I did, but I couldn’t run a mile without stopping, dying on the spot or beating myself to death with the frustration of it all. Just like my brain forgets the construction of a well formed sentence, my muscles wither and forget how to function.

Now I’ve just realised the real reason why I have stopped publishing a blog. I keep setting myself challenges! Now not only do I need to recondition my mind, I’ve got to recondition my body, which I guess cannot be a bad thing I suppose.