Today is Thanksgiving here in the States, not my cup of tea, so as it’s extremely mild weather I thought that a long run was in order.
Yes, I’m the fittest 66 year old in my chair…because I’m the only one who sits in my chair.
Out there on the street, there are men in their 70s fitter, stronger and faster than me…many of them in fact.
I don’t have abs popping through my shirt. I don’t have thighs like tree trunks. I don’t have an arse that can crack walnuts. I have an average body with an above average mindset to go with it.
That along with knowing at my age what is pushing the limits without the extreme, sets me up nicely for hopefully doing the same when I do reach my 70s…and hopefully beyond.
During my long run today, I basically took a route in the shape of a rectangle…no more than 8 miles at a pretty even pace.
In and around mile 3, a laddie in his mid to late 40s (at a guess) came alongside from behind me, grinned and asked how old I am. I told him…he said well done and that I was doing OK for an old guy, then he sneered and ran on ahead of me…obviously very proud of his pace and ability.
At around mile 5 I came around a street corner to see the same fella about 50 yards ahead of me…slowing the pace that he had earlier.
Eventually I caught him, He looked slightly flustered when he saw me on his left shoulder. I asked him how far he was running. He said no more than 5 miles. I said well done, you’re doing OK for a fat fella, and then I ran on ahead of him…without the sneer!
My Tourette’s just kicked in…couldn’t help myself…karma maybe. I carried on at the same pace and never saw him for the rest of my route.
How childish of me I thought, 66 years old and lowering myself to his level to get a wee kick out of a throw away comment. Childish maybe, but the rush of “good chemicals” that surged through my body pushed me up a long drag of a hill that I normally struggle with on around mile 7.
Keeping a ticking along fitness level when you’re older is important…and quite obviously any advantage that you can gain during your training session will help immensely with enjoying the pain…ha ha ha.
Bob Shepherd 
Cheeky little ‘sickener’ there for the young bloke Bob 😁
Classic Bobby! Onwards and upwards the fun is just starting Pal x
Good run.
All I can manage a 3-mile walk, with 6 kg pack, on my two sticks. Yet that’s OK because I always get ‘there’ and back.
Every day, three times a day, same speed, no matter what the weather is doing.
For me it’s all about stubbornness on damaged legs.
That and I also get to use ‘colorful’ language every now and again, and my sticks on a couple of occasions when some ass gets too stupid aka WACK!
Practice makes perfect after all, and the hands need reminding what the memory never forgets.
Love that comment of yours Bob, F~*K Them….:)
Well done Bob! Take no prisoners! Am 78 years and confined to walking round my garden! Am doing the occasional swim! so far so good!
I know the feeling Bob. Rennie
Thanks for making me smile Bob in these pressing times.
Old Civilian friend – The Old Camp.
And indeed our wee chats in H.
Don’t start rocking that chair your fall sleep 💤
Stay – Safe,
Andre.