Old Man Storytime

I went running tonight and a funny story happened while I was at the track. I've given this story the title "Why it took me half an hour to start running after arriving at the track." So, I arrive and the only other person on the track is an older gentleman wearing spandex shorts. Spandex shorts, white hair, and lack of shirt should have been red flags that a fanatic was in the area. I never found out his name but I've come to call him "old man storytime." (No disrespect to my elders of course.) He explained that he was training for a 400 meter race in the upcoming Senior Olympics, told the legend of his placement for his age division in years past, and then proceeded to tell me the story of his first triathlon in Idaho. He explained how he fulfilled to his vow to beat the man who drove up to the race in a nice Cadillac with his carbon fiber frame bike. His victory brought him the coveted spudman trophy. I listened intently hanging on every word or so he thought. After this story he took it upon himself to start training me. He demonstrated proper breathing and made me demonstrate it after running back and forth in 20 foot intervals. I figured hey why not I've been listening to him this long besides being pretty much impossible to get away. When our session ended he challenged me to beat his 1:38 time on the 400m.

After he left I realized why I admired this guy. Somehow he turned me into a captive audience. I think when I'm an old dude I want to be able to do that. I'll probably spend most of my time riding buses or other public transportation giving advice to young people who don't need or want it. I'll talk so much and make the situation so awkward that they'll have to just sit there and listen to me. Looking back at this really long message it's a bit ironic, maybe it means I'm off to a good start. (That is if you had the perseverance to read it all.)