Until a few months ago, I had some serious issues regarding my age; specifically, that I had already peaked and now was on an entirely downhill slope until my eventual death. Amongst other things, this was initiated by learning I was too old for intake into a national junior sports team, and then propagated by leaving college and being thrown into a word of work, adult responsibilities, and suck.
Going to university has helped (a lot). For the first time in a few years, I was surrounded by people (almost) my own age. I could have my own fun instead of supervising younger children having it from the sidelines.
By now, of course, I had come to terms with not being on the junior team. I would make my way up through the adult squads if it killed me; my age has not changed my end goal. With that in mind, when I heard what my new coach (an utterly lovely lady, it must be said) was planning I warned it would be futile, yet she was not to be dissuaded, so I let her get on with it while I trained unconcerned by the argument unfolding with one of the squad coaches behind me. I wasn't getting in the squad. I wasn't getting in the squad a year ago; I had no hopes pinned on this argument going at all in my favour.
But eventually argument turned to debate. Debate turned to discussion. Discussion turned to other coaches walking over and getting involved and before I knew it I was being asked about my personal details and told to fill in forms and given a log in for the teams website.
And then the answer came back.
Too old.
Don't think for a second I don't appreciate what she tried to do today; if she had had succeeded in using her political influence to get me on the team, I would have been that happiest girl in the building, but instead, it just stirred up a lot of feelings I thought were put to bed.