Pace yourself

THE Wales National Pool was gloriously quiet this morning. I had a 50-metre lane to myself. I could almost convince myself that I was in Olympics training mode.

Unfortunately reality intervened, in the shape of the poolside clock. Still, 800 metres front crawl in 19 minutes 8 seconds isn’t too bad for a retired bloke.

Later, conversation in the Retired Gentlemen’s Swimming Club’s shower debating society turned to the mega salaries earned these days by top footballers. Some invest their earnings in vast property portfolios. Others seem content to pour it down their throats or snort it up their noses.

These are the stupid ones who do not seem to realise that their days in the supertax bracket are comparatively short. Everyone reaches their sell-by date eventually. Some of us get there quickly.

We departed with a rueful observation from Viv: “As you get older, time doesn’t go quicker. You go slower.”

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