AKMA’s Random Thoughts

I’ve been vain, for the past years of exercising, that at no point had I fallen. Stumbles, yes; missed steps, yes; but I have not hitherto surrendered to the forces of gravity. ‘Hitherto’ is the operative word, though. This morning, crossing Caldecott Road, I encountered adverse traffic both along the pavement and in the street. Two pedestrians, timed so that I could not cross their paths to the road, walked along toward me; then when they cleared my path, an auto drove from Wilshaw toward the Drayton Road. I extended my path until the car had passed, then looked back over my shoulder to the right, to ascertain whether another car was coming. The coast was clear, I turned back toward looking ahead and to my left, and as I was crossing Caldecott my balance entirely deserted me and I tumbled headlong to the road.

At this point, I’m inferring from my injuries, but I think that what happened was that I fell forward onto my right shoulder and nearly onto my face (the right temple of my glasses is bent from impact); then onto the palms of my hands, and onto my right knee. I scrambled up and staggered into St Amand, and thence homeward. My Apple Watch alertly noticed that I had a serious fall, which alert I dismissed. I got home, rinsed the palms of my hands (which at that point I thought were the only point of significant contact, and made coffee.

As I sat at my desk, I thought I might have banged my knee, so I lowered my sweats and looked, and sure enough my right knee is scraped and bleeding lightly. Then I stretched my arms out, thought I noticed stiffness in my right shoulder, and that too is bruised and scraped.

After a minute or two of mild shock, I think I’ve recovered my senses sufficiently to go about my business. I’ll shower in a minute or two, to clean out the wounds and prepare for sticking-plasters. And if for the next few days I seem to be moving oddly…

Oh, by the way, I made it home in a good time.

A bit of a regression this morning, but I’m still satisfied with my run. Coffee and fruit, shower and Morning Prayer, then home again for coffee and toast and odds and ends. Then we head into Oxford to give our biometric information to His Majesty’s Home Office; uncertain of our return time, we’ll play the rest of the day by ear.

Got up early to squeeze in a run (at another good pace, fighting back to my good old plateau) in time to have some coffee and a shower before heading out to St Nic’s for the 8:00 service (sermon below the fold). The service went well, and I lingered after to talk with a bereaved congregant. Then homeward for coffee and toast, and have since then been just reading and listening to tunes. I did watch the Old Firm game (that is, ‘stared at the BBC online coverage and, after the fact, watched admiringly as Maeda delivered an over-the-head kick that was a moment of sheer unworldly beauty. ’Mon the Bhoys!
Continue reading “Sunday Onward”

I took this morning easy, beginning with a jog-walk for my morning miles. My joints were especially grumpy this morning, though I’m not sure whether they actually do feel different or whether I just notice them more when I’m moving slowly. Coffee and hot breakfast, another cup of coffee because it is just so satisfying, some digital odds and ends. An easy start to what I hope will be a restorative day.

Ran my morning miles at another ten seconds closer to my late April plateau. Coffee, fruit, shower, dash to Oxford to agree marks with a colleague, back to Abingdon to leave my academic gear and pick up my clerical gear, over to St Michael’s for a wedding (a very sweet wedding) which went marvellously, then back home to collapse in a heap. I’m knackered, but on everyone’s account it was a great service.

My morning run today shaved more than a minute off Wednesday’s, so I’m settling back closer to my pre-Bannister plateau zone. Coffee, fruit, Morning Prayer, home for second coffee and toast, and marking and homily-writing.

Good night’s sleep, slow but satisfactory run (not even trying for speed), coffee, fruit, shower, Morning Prayer, some groceries, home, back to church for Chapter Meeting.

I got a good night’s sleep after an evening devoted to resolving a security problem with a bank account (the kind of security problem that you definitely don’t want to put off) (honestly, forgers these days are hardly even trying, though corruption in general is so slipshod that I can see standards slipping across the spectrum of felonies). Got up, walk/jogged my morning miles, joints and sinews suggesting that they prefer not to be called upon to pursue sudden intense intervals of exertion such as powered my Bannister Mile yesterday. That’s okay, I don’t expect anything like that for a year at least.

Home for coffee and fruit, shower, Morning Prayer, then off to public office hours at R&R, home for lunch and a New Testament teaching staff meeting, and further adventures in pension-activation, wedding homily preparation, and so on.

I see that Alan Jacobs has been reading The Dark Bible, which I also am in the midst of. I’ll be interested to see what he has to say; my first impressions are mostly very favourable.

I got up and made coffee this morning, ate some fruit, dressed for running, and made my way to the Stratton Way bus stop to catch a bus to Oxford. I knew that since today is a bank holiday, there would be fewer buses; I did not know just how very few there would be. I had allowed an hour and a half for the wait and the ride combined, but when I arrived at the stop, a sign indicated that my usual bus (the X3) wouldn’t arrive for 37 minutes. That just seemed far too long to me, and with the duration of the trip in to Oxford would cut seriously into my time for registering and preparing for the run — and that’s assuming that the bus showed up at all (of which I was less confident than I’d liked to be). Thus, when a bus to Osney Island (a bit west of the rail station) arrived and was about to leave, I impulsively jumped aboard, reasoning that it was likely that my trip duration + walking time to Christ Church would still be less than waiting for the X3, and at least I knew that the 44 to Osney Island was actually there and moving. In this, I reasoned correctly; by the time I disembarked, the X3 was only just leaving Stratton Way. On my way to the registration booth, I passed a girl and her dad by the rail station, and the young ’un pointed up at me and said, ‘Dad, look! Santa Claus!’ which was gratifying to this old coot (though I think I make a more svelte Santa than most). Registration went smoothly, and I was ready to go with an hour to spare.

The Bannister Mile itself went smoothly, though I had foolishly signed up for the ‘Family Wave’, thinking that there would be fewer serious runners speeding past me at disheartening rates. I had not, however, reckoned with the number of six-to-eight year olds who would go fairly slowly, and with no sense whatever of their position in the running lane (since they were usually with parents, often with siblings, in phalanxes, they made it extremely difficult to find clear routes to move ahead). (I’m not sure I’ve ever used ‘phalanxes’ in discursive prose before, so that’s a win right there.) Once I moved past most of the slow family groups — the families that run regularly who breezed along (and ran back from the finish to the start just for fun) zipped past me — I kept to what was for me a moderately good pace, and I’m very confident that I shave fifteen seconds or so off last year’s time. [Later: seventeen seconds, to be exact.]

Now I’m just worn to a frazzle from all the walking and running, so I will sit here for a while, then shower, then tackle some task-demands. But the mile is in the books.

I ran to a very good pace this morning. I’ll take things easy tomorrow and Sunday, with a view to staying limber but not over-doing before Monday. Coffee, fruit, shower, Morning Prayer (and check messages), back for coffee and toast. And so on…

I’ve been reticent about saying this in public (though voluble in personal conversation), but now that the season of Annual Meetings is over I feel free to say: I will retire from my parish ministry post here in Abingdon Parish at the end of my licensing period in January 2027.
The Parish is in sturdy health, and numbers are growing. Our new (familiar) Rector Jen Brown has been in post since October and has settled firmly into her role. We’ll have (heaven permitting) a new Team Vicar sometime in the autumn.
Half-time church posts are notoriously closer to full-time, but the two consecutive interregnums in the parish have taken that axiom to an extreme. I’ve had to struggle to get any reading or writing done, and I have at least one big project I don’t want to put off any longer.
I’ll continue to tutor for Oriel College as long as Bill Wood will put up with me, and Fr Jonathan Jong has enlisted me for PTO ministry at St Mary Magdalen Church in Oxford. Margaret & I hope to find a house in Headington. We’re healthy and happy, and want to enjoy our time together while we can.
I have no desire for retirement festivities or farewell parties, *but* — on 5 December we will observe the fortieth anniversary of my ordination to the priesthood with a Commemoration of Clement of Alexandria at St Helen’s, Abingdon, to which all and any will be welcomed!

I took today as a jog/walk day; my joints and sinews felt wobbly, so I didn’t want to press hard. Coffee, fruit, shower, Morning Prayer, and coffee in town at R&R to start the day.

I have a particular devotion to Peter Martyr a/k/a Peter of Verona a/k/a Peter of Milan, so I observe his feast today by looking fondly back at my photos of the Portinari Chapel at St Eustorgio’s in Milan (coincidentally, I was just talking at St Eustorgio’s yesterday with a colleague at lunch). Today, the New Liturgical Movement blog documents some of the glories of the Portinari Chapel.

Adequate run this morning, at about my (current) ordinary pace, and with no pain or stiffness. Coffee, hot breakfast (it’s Wednesday, duh), shower, Morning Prayer, home for coffee and toast, back to the Parish Centre for Staff Meeting, home for lunch, and later in the day I will go back to the Parish Centre to help a wedding couple plan their service.

The BBC story about the underground city in Turkey almost slipped past me without especial notice till I read a response post that read ‘A man renovating his home in Turkey noticed his chickens kept disappearing into a crack in his basement wall. When he dug it open he found the ancient city of Derinkuyu, an 18 level city 85 metres underground (275 feet) that could shelter 20,000 people.’ Those chickens struck a chord with me; I had read about this man and his chickens back in the sixties, in a book called Lost Worlds and the Men Who Found Them (obvious 60s sexism, sorry). Those chickens…

I took this morning’s miles at a jog/walk/run pace, about two-thirds of full-on running speed; as I said yesterday, I really don’t want any injury before I run Monday. I expect this will be my [second and] last time, since I’m beginning to consider other ways of staying fit. That’ll have a lot to do with where we move to, though.

Coffee, fruit, shower, Morning Prayer, home for coffee, toast, reading and planning. I’ll go to Oxford for lunch, then come back here to see what more I can get done before dinner.

Morning run at a cautious pace (don’t want to risk any injuries this week in anticipation of the Bannister Mile next Monday), coffee and fruit, shower, Morning Prayer, signing some real estate documents, then coffee for public office hours at R&R.

Having missed yesterday’s run, I determined to run this morning even though I had the 8:00 service at St Helen’s, leaving only a narrow window for running, drinking coffee, editing homily, showering, dressing, and hurrying to church in time to assure the congregation I would in fact be there.

The run went beautifully — an excellent pace for me. I managed to make coffee promptly when I got home, despite my being winded for a while. I chopped part of the homily to make it short for the 8:00, ironed out some wrinkles in the full version (below) , showered and shaved (testing a new fragrance), dressed and made it to the church on time. Between the 8:00 and the 10:30, I had a coffee and pastry at Throwing Buns, back for the 10:30 at St Helen’s, and home after that, weary and relieved that all had gone moderately well. Continue reading “Sunday’s Run Day, Charlie Brown”

I took my morning miles at a jog-walk pace; my joints protested mildly, and with the Bannister Mile up next Monday I thought I would give them a break. I came home for sermon-writing and coffee and a hot breakfast, followed by more writing till lunchtime. After lunch, Margaret and I took Flora and Minke and wandered down the Thames Path partway to Culham, at which point turned around for home. We had Pellegrino Aranciata Rossa and Sloe Gin to refresh ourselves (not Flora and Minke), and will settle down to watch crime drama. All things considered, a thoroughly pleasant Saturday.