How To Quietly Rage Against Ageism (And Grow Older Gracefully)

One of the things I started doing post divorce was road-racing. It was a real jump-starter, so to speak. I talk about it in this recent article.

The running community is awesome. You make friends training, racing, or out for a casual jog. We’re all equal. If you can keep up with the group, you’re in. Age, ethnicity, and gender are irrelevant.

Or so I thought.

Not long ago, I ran a 10K — far from my first. The race was a combined 5K and 10K. If you’ve never run one of those, as you might guess, there’s a point at which the 5K and 10K groups divide.

As I approached the split, the specter of ageism first appeared.

I could see and hear — despite my no doubt rapidly declining faculties — a guy yelling out the split: 5Ks to the left, 10Ks to the right. He repeated 5K slightly more insistently and pointed left as I approached. Hmm.

Then I got closer, and, since my cognitive abilities are still relatively intact, or at least I like to think so, I was already on the right. And another guy actually repeated, more loudly as I got to the split, "5K, 5K, 5K!" urgent gesticulation left, urgent gesticulation left, urgent gesticulation left.

Maybe I’m overthinking it, but I’m pretty sure he was convinced I looked too old for the 10K.


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