My good friend Marge lived a long life. She attributed her years of good health to a rigid exercise regime and abstemious diet. Her athletic prowess was recognized by several women's colleges by their hiring the Maine native as physical education director. Even into her late-80s her ping-pong game was unbeatable. drop shots, wicked spins, and a power slam guaranteed her a winning streak against me that spanned decades. I thought I would never beat her, but at the age of 91 Madge suffered a stroke. Not so severe as to damage her thought process, yet she had lost a little off her serve and I challenged her to one last game.
To 15.
And I beat her by one.
My niece considered my gloating over the nonagenarian 'bush', then again my niece has never beaten me. Only problem is that I'm over the half-century club and today I read off senior athletes are still competing against each other in a variety of track and field events. I had to ask myself, "Can I beat a 90 year-old in the 100 meter dash?"
Current record 22 seconds by a 95 year-old.
I went to the local track and paced out 100 meters. My friend had a stop watch. I leaned forward in a racing crouch. My favorite runner in the 60s was Tommie Smith. He won every 400 race. Even the gold at Mexico City. This race was for his black power salute. I had a reason to win.
"Ready, set, go."
I dashed from the starting line with the finish in sight even without my glasses. I counted the seconds. 50 yards in 8 seconds. 75 in 15. 100 in 20.
My friend checked the watch.
"21 seconds."
Victory and I was elated with the win.
Next stop is against the 80 year-olds and for this contest I will train like a motherfucker, because some of those old geezers are cheating with steroids. I will use none, because I'm pure as the wind-driven slush. No asterisks in my bio or race record. At least not unless I lose and then it's every man for himself.
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