The Countdown to Uni: Nine Days to Go

It’s been a rather frantic – but also rather productive – day, and it sometimes appears as though the two are inextricably linked. It seems like whenever I have a day in which I get anything more than half an hour of relaxation, I get precisely nothing done. In one sense that augurs well for the stresses of university life; conversely, one could argue that it speaks volumes about my time management.

I begun today along the Kingston Towpath, taking part in Parkrun number fifty-eight (and my penultimate one in London for a good while). Kingston is not only a fast course; it’s also another gorgeous one. No Parkrun in which I’ve taken part thus far has quite matched Milton Keynes’s effort, a beautiful trail around a stunning lake and magnificent park, but Kingston has indeed run it close. On a bright autumn morning, the serenity of the river is in lovely juxtaposition to the frantic, sweat-soaked efforts of the runners. As it was, I woke up hoping to record a second Parkrun win, but it transpired that it was a poor day to aim for a win due to four clubs choosing Kingston for their mob match (NB: A ‘mob match’ refers to an event in which a large number of runners from two or more athletics clubs turn up to a run and essentially go head-to-head). Nevertheless, I recorded my second fastest Parkrun time ever – 18:20, only three seconds off my personal best from May – and came fourth out of a field of one-hundred-and-forty-seven. It’s definitely one that I’ll be looking to return to in December or the first week of January.

After getting home and showering, I decided that it was finally time to think about booking my tickets for the five-day athletics camp with OUAC. It’s only a one-hour journey from Waterloo, which is nice, but due to my tardiness the tickets will cost me almost thirty pounds. Adding this to the ninety pounds it costs for the trip, my remaining holiday money of one-hundred-and-fifty pounds will be very nearly gone by next Saturday, meaning that frugality will be the word of the day during Freshers Week. Thankfully I’ll save a considerable amount of money due to not drinking alcohol, but I presume that entry to clubs and bars will cost something during Freshers, as will the various outfits for whatever themes the college/university decide upon for our delectation. Getting through First Year without asking for any parental help – which is, incidentally, my aim – may well prove to be difficult. I’m actually returning from the camp a day early for a Royal Mail interview with a view to working over Christmas – the importance of which is paramount if I’m going to both survive first year unaided and have any disposable income for the holidays.

Nevertheless, I’ll cross those bridges if and when I hit them, so for now it will suffice to say that I’m delighted to be invited on the camp – not only does it give me a chance to experience four days of top training before the Oxford Half Marathon on October 14th, it also gives me a chance to try and make acquaintance with some current students. I begun my secondary school knowing not a soul, and admittedly it appears as though I’ll have made considerable advance on that issue by October 2nd. Equally, it will be nice to spend some time away from home prior to leaving.

I don’t want to make myself misunderstood – I’m not at all happy to be leaving home per se, but being at home by myself now my family have returned to work and school and my friends have all but returned to university leaves me somewhat restless. I can’t actually pack yet due to the camp, so I spend most of the day in a state of tension. By the time I return home, it will leave me a weekend left before departing; the Saturday will be spent packing everything, whilst the Sunday will be mainly spent at the Reading 10K. As such, the camp should help to alleviate something of the restlessness.

It probably sounds very sad, whilst expounding just how tedious my year out has become, but I’m looking forward to packing an inordinate amount. One surely has to be extremely cynical or ambivalent to finally be making the last preparations for university for the first time and not feel some thrill – being on that cusp, that threshold to a completely new existence…I’m not quite there yet, but making those last steps should hopefully instigate those emotions – in addition to, of course, the sense of poignancy as I shut the door of my room for the final time.

I hope you’ll excuse my excessively emotive rant there, and I’ll move on to the progress I’ve been making on my pre-university reading: a.k.a ‘Jack Battles Bleak House’. I’ve managed to read 175 of the 730 pages thus far (I begun yesterday), but there is definitely something a bit demoralising about realising just how much of the tome remains despite being two hundred pages in. Note to any potential English applicants: more than a modicum of stoicism is needed if one hopes to navigate ‘Middlemarch’ and ‘Bleak House’ successfully. The length notwithstanding, it’s an enjoyable read to an extent; I like Dickens’ sardonic tone at times and I’m a fan of his subtle contempt for some of the mores of his time, even if this particular plot moves rather slowly (as I suppose is unavoidable in a book of that length).

Perhaps not the most storied day, then, but it’s another one to cross of the calendar before I board the Hogwarts Express my parents car and head off to Gryffindor Tower St. Edmund Hall to study Defence Against the Dark Arts English Language and Literature. *Yes, Chiara, I’m aware Magdalen officially bears the Gryffindor name but we have Gryffindor colors so that’s good enough for me. ..* Eight to go; nearly into the last week.

Regards,

Jack