Ocsober. Just kidding.

[Mid Life Crisis Marathon Man]

The Run's End - A Funeral.

I like funerals. It’s a funny thing to say. It’s a bit like saying ‘I like natural disasters’, which is also true for me. That’s not to say the events or their consequences are anything to be enjoyed or celebrated, but they do have a way of bringing out the best in people and it’s this sense of community that appeals to me. At times of natural, or even man-made disaster, people pull together in surprising and heart-warming ways to make things better, and that’s a truly great thing to experience.

Similarly, funerals have a way of bringing out the better nature of the mourners, which allows us to honour the deceased person’s life. I know this is a tricky moral dilemma for some who see funerals as bordering on hypocrisy. It’s true that like a job reference, a funeral focuses on a few highlighted positive aspects and completely ignores the negatives about a person. But no-one is perfect, and in death I like to think there is little wrong with celebrating the sunnier side of a person’s character.

The funeral we attended was one of the most interesting I’ve ever been too. The deceased was a genuine ‘rough diamond’ – a heart of gold encased in a scarred and troubled working man’s visage who died way too soon, on the wrong side of fifty. Many of the mourners were of a similar type. Some arrived clearly already half tanked and one or two even drank openly during the service. Whilst it might seem disrespectful, I suspect in their own eyes it was far from being so.

The truly surprising thing was how well some of those people spoke. And others, too traumatised to speak, had written brief but eloquent words of praise for their deceased friend. The number of mourners also was a huge surprise, being one of the largest funerals I think I’ve attended. Even more surprising, nearly everyone also attended the actual burial following the commemoration service.

It was also the only funeral I’ve attended where the sole choice of music played was AC/DC, and we left the chapel to the cranked strains of ‘Highway To Hell’, simultaneously both appropriate and ironic, although given the deceased's name of 'Burns' perhaps less ironic than it seemed at the time. I’ve noticed over the years that funerals nowadays are more likely to feature rock and even some metal than ‘Nearer My God To Thee’, but this was taking it to whole new level.

As you might guess, the wake was a monster. A confirmed Jim Beam and Coke man, friends and family honoured his choice with a seemingly endless supply of the stuff. All I can say is that I have never drunk so much bourbon in a single night before, and I am stupendously glad I didn’t mix my drinks as it took two full days to recover, and was manageable only for that fact of sticking to the Jim Beam alone.

In the end, it served to reinforce my belief that funerals are good things. Like a long distance run, they can be tough to endure, but you come out the other end a better person for the experience. And whilst the funeral isn’t about you of course, you still learn a lot about yourself as well as the deceased and the other mourners.

We returned to Sydney in time for an early heatwave which has disrupted the running schedule still further. But the weather will improve soon, and I’ve now more reason than ever to celebrate my good health by keeping it so with some regular exercise, and perhaps a little less Jim Beam. Well, I say that, but last night a birthday celebration yielded way too much beer and wine again, which makes me wonder how committed I am to this running business.

No, run I must. And I will.