Slowly Does It

I’ve gone back to catching the train into Town everyday.  Like everywhere else, the cutbacks have hit our car parking spaces and, rather than guess at when and where I may be able to park everyday, I’ve opted to take the train from my village.

I used to catch the train when I worked at HM Courts Service in Town in 2009.  Back then I grew to enjoy my quiet morning ritual of rolling out of bed, down the hill and onto the train.  I think I was in much better shape – round is a shape, isn’t it? – because of the 20 minutes exercise incorporated into my day.  Now it’s more like 30 minutes a day but if it means that it improves my health, that can only be a good thing, right?  Even now I will admit that I find the journey much more relaxing than driving.

I will also admit that it’s taken more time that I’d like to get back into the swing of the routine.  I find that because I have a limited time, I try and get as much done as humanly possible the night before – I boil my eggs for breakfast, ensure my work bag is full, set out my outfit for the morning, etc.

The first few mornings I found myself rushing – I jogged down the hill to my village train station and rush up the hill to the office.  By the time I got to the office I was positively glistening and, when people would say “It’s very chilly out this morning!” I’d find myself thinking “Really??”  Then in the evenings I rushed down the hill in Town to the station – just to be sure I’d get to the station on time.  Of course, there is plenty of time for me to catch the 17:54 from Town but I was keen ensure I got there in plenty of time as missing it would involve waiting for a later train.

On Thursday I decided I was fed up with rushing: I was getting achy – which really is counter-productive if I’m ever going to get into shape.  So, I merely walked down the hill that morning and made such good time that I walked into the station and immediately onto the waiting train.  That evening I walked down the Town hill and got to the station in plenty of time.  I still arrived at home that night out of breath but, all things considered, I feel I’ve made a good start at trying to get back into shape.

I have a knack of putting too much pressure on myself.  I do it a lot – which of course is the last thing I need.  If I could just calm my mind, I would sleep better, work better and feel better…    Before I went on holiday with my husband, I found a ritual that helped – I have a tin of loose jasmine tea that I prepared on my arrival at the office.  I have to concentrate on slowing down to gently put the tea into the metal ball.  Unfortunately my little ritual isn’t working as well as it did before and I’m wondering if my inability to remain calm has something to do with the exercise I’m getting in the morning.

I’m really looking forward to it getting seriously cold and the sun just rising as I’m (Sauntering? Moseying?) rolling down the hill to the village station because, just as the sky glows pink, I enjoy watching the birds darting through the shrubbery.

Oddly, I also dreading it getting seriously cold because it’s downright difficult to walk on icy paths.  I may ask for a walking stick for Christmas to ensure that I can keep my balance.

Despite all of what I just said, today I drove to the office.  The luck of it was that almost everyone at my office was out on a training course all day so there were several car parking spaces available.  As it meant that I could go to work and collect some heavy vegetables at the Friday Market, I accepted the offer of a car parking space and also took the opportunity of transporting some pillows I bought home as well as buying another six bottles of wine (in time for Christmas) that were half price!

Sunset at the moment is about 4pm, which realistically means that I’ve begun to notice diminishing light at about 3:30.  While I struggle without sunlight, I do find myself enjoying long evenings in the flat with my gorgeous husband.  You cannot really snuggle under the covers in the summer in the same way that you can in the winter.  Funnily enough, I’ve felt more at home in England over the past couple of winters – the arrival of snow was a shock but gave me that old romantic feeling again.  I like there being several feet of snow accumulated outside and having no reason to go out.  I imagine there was once a pre-historic version of me who enjoyed being covered in furs, cuddling under a rock ledge with my love.  We could watch the snow falling and be a part of it while remaining safely out of it.  Sadly the weather here isn’t quite cold enough for all that.

Foxy

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