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The race never ends...

About 20 years ago, an uncle of mine (may his soul rest in peace) used to be a regular feature in our household. Living alone, he found great pleasure clowning around with my toddler daughters. With a lot to spare time after retirement and having all his kids (and wife) leave the nest, he spent time gardening and doing his own home improvement projects at a snail's pace. 

 He was then just passed 70 and was so happy to relate to me how he completed his Penang Bridge Run only in the nick of time, just one minute before the cut-off time.

 I failed to understand then what his fuss was all about. In my mind, partaking in any competitive event meant I had to end well amongst the top few. I had lived my life with the adage 'a miss is as good as a mile'.

 Being a good sport, however, I did felicitate him and recommend his feat. Deep inside, I failed to appreciate his joy. 

 Now with the passage of time, and hopefully wiser, I can see clearly that after a certain age, even getting up in the morning itself is an achievement. At any age, there is always someone better, stronger and faster. Trying to be on top all the time is never humanly possible. 

 Perhaps at the spring of youth, I can put myself out to test out where I stand in the population distribution. After that, with advancing years and a gradual decline in prowess, I am left to compete with two entities, myself and me. Then there are the inner demons and the naysayers who insist that I am weaker than I am. I do not know if they are overly concerned, jealousy or just wanting me to be vulnerable and be dependant on them.



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