Aging

This weekend was one of my dafter ones in a while.

On Thursday I did my usual ‘site visit’ to the office where my primary client is based – which is about 100 miles drive each way. Makes for about four hours driving as well as most of a working day.  At the same time I’d somehow sort of knackered my foot – slightly swollen, almost like a gout attack but nowhere near toes. Odd, but nothing major.

Then Saturday was a trip down to London – a good lunch with friends first before going to the theatre in the evening and then home.  Again, 100 miles-ish driving each way, plus London transport and walking.  Got home about 1am, but didn’t get to sleep til after 3am.

Then Sunday was a trip up to York to meet another friend for more food and drinks. Entirely my own choices, and I’m blaming no-one, it’s just how it all worked out.  But another 100 miles each way, another 2 hours each way in the car, plus a shitload of walking.

So between Saturday morning and Sunday night I’d driven the entire length of the M1 (London to York).  Twice.  I’d walked just under 23Km over the two days, but it was the driving that took it out of me the most.  I got out of the car here and everything just hurt and pretty much shut down – indeed I ended up with a reaction like shock – shivering, cold and clammy, and not really all that functional.  It eased off, but I wonder if it was that sudden “everything hurts all at once” that dumped the body into a state of surprise and “What the hell’s happened there?”

It’s all been fine by today – aching legs and so on, but nowhere near as bad as last night – and I’ve spent the day doing Not Much, along with rehydrating.

But I think I might just have to admit to myself that I’m getting a bit older – and that eight hours of driving in 48 as well as a load of walking and general alcohol and idiocy is perhaps no longer as easy as I’ve usually found it.