*Correction: apparently this will not display in Helvetica even if I change the font while I compose it. In the interest of full disclosure, be aware that I’m looking at the most important new font of the 20th century, even if you can’t.*

As I sit here, recovering from a sneeze-related injury, I  can’t help feeling that the 73 year old marathon runner  whose interview I just skimmed past is gratuitously fit. There’s no  need for a 73 year old man to run a marathon except to mock younger people. To my way of thinking, if you’re 73 and you have 26 miles to cover, you should have access to some other form of transportation.

I’m not raging against the elderly in general; I have no grievance against septuagenarians running local 5K races for fun or charity. But a marathon is kind of a statement; even people who like running marathons don’t particularly enjoy the actual marathon part–that’s brutal even if you’re in shape for it. They do it for the sense of accomplishment it provides later. If you’re 73, I think you’ve had time to earn a sense of accomplishment without hasty last-minute measures like marathons. That stunt carries with it the air of someone furiously brushing their teeth prior to a dental checkup to compensate for months of neglect.

I’m planning to resume exercising tomorrow so that my petulant disapproval of athletic achievers seems less like sour grapes. Naturally, someone who can run a marathon has no reason to listen to the criticism of some fat guy who can barely run around his house. If weight loss and diet discipline are what it takes to give my opinions weight (see what I did there?) then so be it.

Outraged? Bored? Sympathetic? Share how that makes you feel. Leave a comment.