Guess what? I’m one of them.

If man is given a span of three score years and ten, then the middle of one’s life would be 35. That was when I re-took up cycling after an absence of far too many years. My mid-life crisis was an easy one to recognise: I had three kids, we were contemplating another one and I was 40kg overweight with a family history of heart disease. That’s a crisis if I’ve ever seen one.

But, according to the Simpsons, the Chinese word for “crisis” is the same as their word for “opportunity”, which makes for a “crisitunity”. I seized it with both hands and started cycling. The 40kg melted away in two years and I’m fitter than I have ever been in my life. While I could have done this with any sort of physical activity, cycling provided a means of transport as well as fitness – which is just as well because with four kids, we can’t all fit in the station wagon.

Mid-life crisis? Yes, I’m in the middle portion of my life, but I don’t want the middle of my life to have been at 35. I think 50 sounds better, maybe 60, maybe more?