Vampires Don’t Age. Neither Do Runners.

As she gazes at the nape of my neck a serene smile crosses over her studious features.

“So much grey already.”

“It’s about time”, I casually reply. Before adding “I’m old”.

Susan has been cutting my hair for years so she rightfully feels at ease in gently chiding me. But before now she has never asked my age. It would appear however that the time for such coyness has past and Susan point blank asks just how old I am.

When I match her bluntness with my own matter of fact rejoinder her eyes bulge in wonder and I appreciate the compliment within her obvious astonishment.

“But how?” she manages to sputter.

“I run. A lot.”

She takes in the simplicity of my proffering but it either fails to register or she just decides simply to change tact.

“You know you could dye your hair.”

“Maybe some other time.” I counter.

Though truth be told I have no interest in colouring my hair. Ever since People magazine featured a “Hurray For Gray” instalment in their annual Sexiest Man Alive issue I’ve been more interested in being handsome professor than boyish undergrad.

Besides, I far prefer to have my elixir of youth come via health and fitness than through any bottle.

And so I continue to run. In fact, tomorrow I will cross the 5,000 kilometre mark for my running this year. A first for me. Which proves that maybe you can teach an old dog new tricks. Even if you can’t dye its fur/hair.

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3 comments

  1. razkristi · · Reply

    Here’s to grey hairs and wrinkles. One day the fall Luke told me he had never noticed the silver strands shining in my brown hair. Then he told me he liked them 🙂
    Sometimes it depresses me when I see my race photos because when running I think I look older than my age. But then I remind myself how young I feel when running!

  2. Grey hair is sexy on men! Besides, I am personally uncomfortable with the idea of applying chemicals so close to my brain – it’s the organ of my body I am most defensive about!

  3. When the clippers come out and the clumps of hair fall in my lap, my illusions that my hair is “salt and pepper” are dashed and I am forced to admit that it is mostly salt. Men can age well, and I am less embarrassed about my photos from last week the those of 5 (or even 30) years ago…

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