Keeping score

Today I am fifty five years old. I got up early, put on my running kit and drove out to the Ridge. The weather was like in this picture, except I didn't take Milly today. I ran fifteen kilometers. It took me eighty six minutes, a personal best by nearly a minute. There was a cool breeze when I began, but by the time I was finished the Sun was high and the temperature was in the middle thirties. I finished with a sprint to the car, my fist in the air shouting "yes!" As I stretched my tired legs the Sun made the sweat on my arms glisten and the breeze began to cool me again.

When I get home Sue has tied balloons to our gate. Our builders are working on our new outside kitchen and all three wish me "happy birthday". I go inside and there are three presents on the table. I greet Sue, shower, change and boot up my laptop. I enter my time on a spreadsheet and note that the World record for a man of my age to run fifteen kilometers is 56% of the time I ran this morning. My age expressed as a percentage of eighty five years is 65%. On the other hand, if I assume my real adult life didn't begin until I was fifteen and I live to be eighty five, I have so far consumed only 57% of my life. But that's still a lot more than half. To be only at the half-way stage I would need to survive until I am ninety five. I can't kid myself, in this particular race I am much closer to the finish than the start.

Sue makes me scrambled eggs for my breakfast and I open her presents to me: a Fossil necklace; a "T" shirt and; a mosquito incinerator. The latter is one of those contraptions with an ultra violet light that makes a satisfying sizzling sound when a mosquito hits it. Sue knows I have always wanted one of these. It's not enough for mosquitoes to die, I believe they should suffer too.

Today I feel happy and lucky. I may be fifty five, but I've run a personal best and nothing hurts and the woman I love has bought me presents. How about you Mr Mosquito, do you feel lucky?