Would I run another half-marathon even for the last mimsy?

Some men accept the passage of time. They cut their hair shorter and accept that success comes from the use of their mind.

Then there's that group of men who ignore the passage of time and the collection of their past behaviour that now hangs over their belts and claim, between mouthfuls of crisps, that the young temp' is "gaggin' fur it".

Finally, there are those who think that decay can be reversed by surgery, or simply outrun.

The Edinburgh Forthside Half-Marathon. My first (and surely my last) attempt to run just over 13-miles. Completed, without slowing to a walk, in 1 hour 51 minutes and 24 seconds. If the report of the timing seems more precise than required - I won a £5 bet that I would have lost had I been a mere 90-seconds slower.

You didn't think I was going to opt for shaving my head and maturity, did you? Maturity!

I was watching television early one evening last week. A movie trailer came on during the adverts. Two pre-pubescent children in some kind of ET movie. Dull. Dull until the name of the movie was given.

The Last Mimzy.

So, we've got two children who "find a mysterious box of toys" including a rabbit in a movie called "The Last Mimsy". You say Lewis Carroll, I say expect to see a lot of disappointed men in raincoats leaving the cinema.