When Ben Elton failed to distract from the pain of moving my body, I found an unlikely savior: the interactive smartphone game Zombies, Run!
At 56, I am training for my first marathon—an old, fat, bald dad surrounded by millennials in body-hugging Lycra and smiles that look AI-generated. But I have an edge over them. They are only competing for positions and personal bests, while I am being chased by zombies.
The black dog of depression hit me around the time of my last birthday. I felt I had achieved nothing of note for an eternity. I used to work out, but for years, work kept getting in the way. So I decided to kill two circling, carcass-sniffing vultures with one stone and run my first marathon.