More Running, Praying, and Marking

11° — for the past two days, it’s been too warm and humid for me to keep my hoodie on for the whole run — and heavy overcast, legs took a long time to limber up, very slow pace. I’ll attend morning Mass at Cowley St John, spend the middle of the day marking, go to Oriel to help with Evensong, and then back home. Sometime in there I’ll give my homiletical mind time to muse about the three homilies I’ll give this week, and will try to keep patient and humble and hopeful, and keep feelings of alienation at bay.

Two Adds Up

The Proclaimers might walk 500 miles, but it occurred to me the other day that if, as I recall (and am too lazy to check) I started running two miles every morning (give or take), that by now I must have run more a good many more than a thousand miles. Take that, Craig and Charlie.

11°, a very good temperature for running, legs were heavy at the start but limbered up as I went. Two miles, of course.

Coal Face

I gave myself a break from the morning run today. Yesterday’s travel + [unsuccessful] interview exhausted me, and put a wee dent in yesterday morning’s confidence. Only a wee dent, though; mostly just a reminder that nothing is a foregone conclusion in my favour, not even a non-remunerative job. It does just pinch at the point of comparing my life and accomplishments with the absolute zero interest in my labours on the part of the Church of England.

Que sera, sera. Something will turn up.

Change of Pace

Two miles, 5°, clear skies, no aches or pains, and a decent pace. Yesterday I saw a genuine young person running toward me, and he bounded as he went; he stride had a coiled-spring vitality that I can’t even imagine feeling, though perhaps if I ventured into the world of yoga or Pilates I could rediscover that limber fluidity of motion.

East-facing view of morning sky, streaked with pink-orange,  down an Oxford road lined by terraced houses, with the silhouette of a bare tree at the focal point.

It’s time for me to stop moaning about employment prospects. After a year of balked hopes, this month opens with a surge of realistic positive prospects, including an interview today and other even more intriguing possibilities on the horizon. I’m not jumping to any conclusions, but it does feel as though light may be dawning.

Two May

7°, clear and pleasant, a little weary, but a satisfactory morning run (two miles, as always).

Today begins with Morning Prayer at Oriel, then a brief window for prep, a ninety minute lecture at Regent’s, another short window, then an appointment, then another lecture, by which time I’ll be right worn out. Regroup, walk home, and greet my sweetheart.

Workers of the World, Unite

On International Workers’ Day, the Memorial of St Joseph the Worker, I’m observing (a week or so early, but the dating is irresistible) the first anniversary of my former employer calling me to a meeting and telling me they wanted a divorce. It’s also May Morning in Oxford, which means that this morning at 5:00, 8° and cloudy skies, I ran my morning two miles weaving between drunker all-nighters and unaccustomed early risers crowding the pavements on their way (the pedestrians’ way, not the pavements’ way, though the pavements do go straight to the bridge, so…) to Magdalen Bridge to hear the choir sing praise to the Holy Trinity from the tower of Magdalen College. On the running front, the result was surprisingly satisfying (didn’t feel great, but can’t complain about the outcome). I had been considering a day off running to avoid the throngs, but the force of routine won out.

On the work front, I have an interview coming up for a non-remunerative job (‘House for Duty’, a Church of England way of keeping clergy sheltered in retirement); awkwardly, that comes up before several other salaried posts consider my applications. We will see.