I’ve often heard runners joke about how their work might be interfering with their running. Although we know in our hearts that the ‘day job’ can’t be avoided altogether, we’d usually much rather spend time on the road than in the office. It’s only when the day job either changes, or even goes away entirely, that we have a chance to see how our world of work and the world of play can overlap and become blurred along the edges of the join. This week I’ll finish working in Shannon after a ten-year stint in that town and I know that I’m going to miss the roads around the office more than I’ll miss the work or the actual office itself.
I’ve met many good and kind people during my time working in Shannon and I’m sure I’ll stay in touch with some of them. In all likelihood however I won’t have the chance to run the roads around Stonehall, Carrygerry, Smithstown or The Points again. More than anything else from my time in Shannon, I’ll remember the people who I ran with. My running log tells me that I ran about 25,000 miles over the last ten years and the majority of those would have been’ Shannon miles’. There has always been a small band of runners in the office. In the summer we’d slog through the dead heat, and for the other fifty weeks of the year we’d slosh our way through the cold and the rain. Either way, we got out for a jog almost every day.
If I’m able, I’ll carry a little of these old-roads in my heart when I move on from Shannon. I’ll carry memories of the care that was shown to me when I was feeling down and thoughts of the many happy lunchtimes we spent together plodding along the back roads of Clare.
Old roads lead to new roads, but you don’t forget the old roads.
Onwards through the fog.