Mortality alert.

Coming back from a gig, I was being tailed by a black, broad, squat sports car. As soon as the route opened up into a long, unrestricted country road I put my foot down to achieve the permissible maximum speed. My car is fairly quick, but this beast behind skipped around me as if I was reversing. A youthful driver sat at the wheel.

Don’t worry, this story isn’t heading to some hair raising incident over the brow of a hill… My realisation was this; even if I had the same car as the other driver I probably would not have been able to keep up with him because my reflexes would have been slower than his due to my advancing years. Not that you need to be particularly old for this to happen. Thirty five years on the clock is retirement age for a footballer. That was the mortality alert, a little reminder that death creeps ever closer.

Better make the most of what’s left then.

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