Now that I have reached the age that once would have entitled me to a state pension and a bus pass, I have renewed my interest in the derring-do of my elders and betters.
I take my metaphorical hat off to Tony Bowman, an 84-year-young grandfather from Leeds, who won a gold medal, representing Great Britain, in the European Masters in Venice in September. He completed the 80 metre hurdles dash over hurdles two-and-a-quarter feet high, in a sprightly 16.8 seconds to secure first place. Some feat.
The indefatigable Tony didn’t stop there, securing a silver in the 400-metre relay, a bronze in the decathlon, and finishing fourth and fifth in the 100-metre dash and 200-metre sprint respectively.
What is even more remarkable is that Tony has had trouble with his ticker. With that sangfroid I am learning to cultivate, he said, “if that’s it – curtains – when I’m running, that’s a great way to go”.
I’m sure, with that track record, when it’s his time to go, he will be the first to the queue for the pearly gates.
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