This was published in a 1997 Michigan USATF Newsletter. The events described actually occurred many years prior. But that don't matter; I think it's timeless.
My friends Geoff Chase, Garry Watson, and Brian Peacock are mentioned.
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I knew that I shouldn't have started it. After all, I was a relatively mature, experienced runner who ought to know better than to begin a quarter mile Sprint To The Finish after a long run around a lake. Especially against Geoff. I hadn't known him (or run with him) for very long before this day, but it wouldn't have taken an expert to see that Geoff was taller, leaner and most of all younger than I was. Of course all of that would add up to his being faster, too.
After the surprise wore off, he quickly erased my early lead. Then I saw it. A grassy area around which the road curved for the final turn before the parking lot. I managed to cut across before he could see me (since I was trailing by this time) and barely beat him to the cars. I was proud to have given Geoff this introduction to cheating, at least in terms of running. Old age and cunning are still champion, but those of us in that category must be eternally vigilant.
Speaking of old age and cunning, on a later run I observed our friend Brian, who in turn surpasses me in both characteristics, employ a slightly more direct technique: that of pushing Geoff toward some bushes before beginning The Sprint To The Finish.
It was while reflecting on these types of experiences that Brian first told me the story of the old bulls and the young bulls. Perhaps you've heard it before; it goes something like this:
There were two pastures divided by a fence with a gate. The higher one contained an old bull and a young bull; the other one had several very desirable and good-looking (to the bulls) cows. One day after the farmer left the gate between the pastures open, the young bull said, "Hey Old Bull, the gate to the cows is open! Let's run down there and smooch a few of them!" (Author's note: verbs other than smooch could possibly be substituted here, but since this is a family-oriented publication ... ) The old bull then said, "Nope. Let's saunter on down there slowly and smooch the whole lot of them!"
I'm not sure exactly what this has to do with shoving Geoff in the bushes, but Brian can always come up with some kind of explanation.
Also on the subject of cheating, Garry, another running friend who is slightly in the "older bull" category, has this theory about it: it's okay to cheat as long as you know that you're cheating. I guess we become somewhat the philosophers as we become older bulls. Anyway, according to this theory, the only true cheaters are those who cheat and then fool themselves into thinking that they aren't.
Garry seems to be constantly aware of any cheating he may do or try, so he does practice what he preaches. He once mentioned that he was considering a new rounding method for his training log. This was intended to make up for the lower mileage that seems to come with old age. The technique was this: he would always round up. But not just to the nearest mile (as I may have done once or twice), but to the nearest five miles! If he runs six miles, he would log ten, and if he runs eleven miles he would log fifteen. In fact, he could just take a step out the door and give himself credit for five miles!
Brian had this comment about Garry's proposed rounding technique: many years from now, archeologists will find Garry's running log, containing somewhat longer distances than expected for the routes that were run, and exclaim, "The world is getting smaller!"
This all leads me to the following reflection:
The old bulls' brains slowly become rattled, worthless meat
Brought on by the constant pounding of their feet.
Rounding helps, they think
But it makes the world shrink
And the only way to beat the young bulls is to cheat!
By the way, if you ever have a Sprint To The Finish against Geoff, you'll have to come up with something new. Now wise to all of our tricks, he beats Brian and me every time. Maybe he's just becoming a more mature bull.
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