Headlines and deadlines

6:16pm Thursday 5th June 2008

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Deadline n closing date, last possible time; orig a line in a military prison, on going beyond which a prisoner was liable to be shot.

My life has become a series of deadlines, time limits, cut-off points and windows of opportunity.
The newspaper business is obviously riddled with these moments by which the facts must be gathered and weaved into sensible sentences, plonked on a page and sent to the press. Some days this can all come together quite smoothly, and other days we are speeding towards the finish line, whipping up headlines amid cries of 'if only we had more time'.

I have about six weeks before the 5km Race for Life in Regents Park, and it's definitely time to crank the training handle. I'm sure 21-year-old Jamaican runner Usain Bolt didn't break the 100m record without some serious sweat sessions and increased intesity (it's okay people, I realise my running "career" is in a parallel universe to his, but we both run you know). My new shoes and I are doing okay, making steady progress, getting further around the park on each outing, but it's time to step up the frequency and add a few early mornings to the mix. You can remind me I said that.

I have calls to make, chores to do, trains to catch and gifts to buy. I have research to do, and decisions to make. There's only so long I can leave my laundry unattended before I have to delve into the back of my drawers and wear pieces of clothing that are stuffed back there for a very good reason.

I will count myself lucky that I'm not in a miltary prison and I won't be shot for paying the gas bill a day late.
And perhaps I'll set myself a new deadline this weekend — to clock off from life's busy pace and chill out.