Although this is a running blog, I can't let events of this week go by without mention. On Tuesday Natalie graduated from Exeter University with a 2:1 BA in French & Italian. Whilst the ceremony itself dragged on a bit - there's only so much excitement generated by numerous students lining up to collect their degrees - it was made a bit more colourful by the university's Chancellor, children's tv personality Floella Benjamin. She certainly brightened up the stage which was otherwise filled with crusty old academics.For Claudie and me it was an incredibly proud day and one we will never forget. We stayed overnight - in university halls - and had a great night out with Natalie's three housemates and their parents. With an afternoon reception in the languages department it was, all in all, quite a day.
A few days earlier I sat through a roller coaster afternoon of golf on tv as 59 year old Tom Watson almost won the Open (I was incapable of doing anything else having endured 2h 50m running on a three mile grass circuit - to protect my legs - in pain and in heavy rain in the morning). A lot has been written about how wonderful it was to see someone of that age competing at the top. Having watched it and subsequently thought about it, I have a different view.
Firstly, the world's top golfers must collectively be ruing an opportunity missed. With Tiger Woods missing the cut, there was an opening for someone to make a mark but on the final afternoon they all fell away and became as anonymous as graffiti artist Banksy. Meanwhile Watson looked like a weekend golfer enjoying the monthly medal in what were not difficult conditions. It seems to me that had Woods made the cut, he would probably have won the tournament by half a dozen shots. That doesn't say a lot for the rest of the field.
Watson missed the final putt to win the tournament and suddenly looked his age. The play off was embarrassing for all and pretty difficult for eventual winner, Stewart Cink. Everyone wanted Watson to win, including Cink he said afterwards! It also summed up why sport at the top level should be about the young and not oldies hanging in there for one more moment of glory before going out to pasture.
This has made me think about my own situation. My running has gone well in the last year but it's only a last hurrah and in many ways is quite pathetic. I think it's probably time to stand aside and retire gracefully rather than push my body hard, beyond limits. I'm only doing well because standards have fallen so much. I wish the younger generation who run would grasp hold of this and realise there is a real opportunity to make a mark in the sport. Hell, if I can do it at my age what could someone with a functioning body do if they had belief in their abilities?
The Bourton Mile last Saturday highlighted the age barriers. It took me the first quarter mile to actually get going - my abdomen pains restricting movement through searing pain during that time - then I was flying along for a while, picking off all the fast starters. In the final quarter I was running against two youngsters whose combined age was nearly 20 years less than mine. They kept sprinting for short periods, then fading, whilst I sustained my pace (I never could change gear) and kept catching them. Inevitably, they had one final sprint to beat me.
