I have a very vivid memory of talking to a co-worker on the bus home from work, and telling her how empty my life would be without sport. This would have been about forty-four years ago, when I was a young twenty-one year old whipper-snapper.

“Oh you’re a jogger,” she said, feigning interest when I mentioned I was going to training that evening.

This word ‘jogging’ had just entered popular lexicon. I was a ‘runner.’ I was most offended and felt compelled to explain the difference. 😀

You see, sport was my life – I took my sport very seriously. I still do.

I had been captain of my school senior football (soccer) team; I had been school cross-country champion two years in a row; I was runner-up the school track & field championships, also two years in a row, having scored more points on the track than the overall champion – it’s just that being a bit of a short-arse, I was rubbish at the throwing of things.

I had represented both my athletics club and my employers in road running, cross country and track championships across UK; I regularly competed on the Scottish Highland Games circuit, and played football at a decent amateur level.

Sport was my life.

Even when injury eventually put paid to my competitive football and athletics interest, I formed a baseball team in England, won the ‘Rookie Team of The Year’ and then won the Scottish League with another team when I moved back north.

Sport was my life.

When that too ended, I took up tennis at the age of 40+. I must admit to this not being my strongest sport, but for many years now I have held my own in the West of Scotland leagues – albeit the lower divisions.

I also at that time took up Circuit Training, with twice weekly sessions. These were pretty intense, but I loved them. And when Covid hit and gyms closed for many months, I returned to running, as I figured at almost 62 years old, I wouldn’t be needing my injured knees for so long. 😉

Over the next eighteen months, starting again after a forty year gap, I ran – not competitively, but just against my previous times. I managed to lower my 5K time to 23 minutes.

You see, sport was my life.

My wife and elderly parents would forever be on my case, concerned I was training too hard, especially considering my age and previous injuries. They were worried I’d keel over without warning some day.

“Nonsense” I argued – you see, sport was my life.

Then in late April last year (2023) I suffered a cardiac arrest! Lights out! Only some prompt CPR action and being zapped a couple of time by a public access defibrillator brought me back.

But contrary to what my wife, parents and even you, dear reader may have thought, the Cardio Consultants confirmed my arrest was idiopathic. There was no discernible reason for it. It can, and does happen to around 30,000 people a year here in UK, with only 8% surviving an ‘out of hospital’ arrest. Of these, only a very fortunate 1% suffer no long term brain injury.

I am one of that very fortunate number and I’m so grateful to everyone that helped me on that fateful evening nine months ago.

The point is – the Cardio Consultants are adamant it was NOT brought on my pushing myself too hard in training.

In fact, had I not been so fit, the chances are I would not be writing this post.

You see – sport SAVED my life.

🙂