Charles Bukowski's phrasing was:
"The days run away like wild horses over the hills"
Last weekend, which I spent predominantly in the basement of Shoreditch Town Hall conducting an experiment in which I persuaded conference delegates to use Lego to un-pack their childhood dreams and explore what had become of their desire to be a doctor or a pilot or a whale, the recurring phrase was:
"Life gets in the way."
And there are, indeed, real events in the real world which take the form of obstacles (those things, as Adam Phillips points out, that tell you about what it is you want) and which can all-too-easily consume great swathes of time until:
"One day you find, ten years have got behind you, no-one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun"
And if Pink Floyd doesn't do it for you, how about the Talking Heads:
"How did I get here? Letting the days go by..."
And if you want to get to the top of your localised fitness landscape in order to assess the view?
"Well I wouldn't start from here."
But here is where I am, and there's still plenty of that Dark Side of the Moon decade to go, and the two recent blogs that could easily have been here are, instead:
Here - a muse on hyper-mobility in London for London Remade
Here - a reflection on my weekend in Shoreditch for Brook Lyndhurst
OK. As ever - enough.