FOR some time, I have been trying to tear myself away from driving my taxi at night, in a partially-successful effort to improve the quality of the time I spend outside work.

Taxi driving is not a nine-to-five job, especially since the long years of recession continue to take their toll. It is necessary to work when and where the work is and to spend long hours waiting, in between work, to make anything resembling a living from it.

Working nights carries with it a sort of innate cynicism, borne of the drunken antics of the travelling public, as well as obvious risks to personal safety. More than this, though, it diminishes the quality of the driver's family and social life, because there is always a financial cost to taking time off work and an imperative to be constantly available.

Sunday saw the Abingdon Marathon make its way through the streets of the town and some of the surrounding villages. As an event it has been running for ten years and on Sunday had a rolling programme of road closures, where some of the roads were only closed for 15 minutes.

Such a difference from the recent Oxford Half Marathon, where the organisers of that event felt it necessary to advertise a five-hour road closure for an entire village as well as some of north Oxford,. hindering the ability of the elderly congregants of at least two churches to get to public worship.

While at church on Sunday morning, a tweet came through about road closures for the Abingdon Marathon and thanks to the connections I had made through prolific use of Twitter these last years, it was possible to get good quality advice about the best places to park.

Then I learned the story of number 54, who had travelled from Scotland to take part in the event. Such an activity would be impossible for me, of course, with my present work pattern. The dedication and determination of number 54 is a real inspiration.

Sometimes, it is necessary to make a decisive change to routine, otherwise things will just stay the same. Sometimes that change can start with a small act, like parking up the taxi getting out and walking.

Driving in Oxford is stressful, especially through the void of uncertainty which is Frideswide Square.

Walking outside Oxford rail station on Friday morning, I was astonished when a cyclist actually slowed almost to a halt and waved me across the road, giving way to me.

So much so, that I hesitated and he had to wave me across a second time. "Thank you, Sir," I said loudly, in the classic English manner, to be sure he was aware of my appreciation.

Ordinarily, travelling around Oxford is subject to a sort of battle of wills, between cyclists, motorists and sometimes also pedestrians, but on Friday, the entire day was made better, thanks to a simple early morning act of kindness.