Asked on the BBC by Jeanette Kwakye how many times he had watched back his gold medal-winning 1500m race at the World Championships, Jake Wightman’s answer, for all its modesty, was a reminder of the gulf between his participation in athletics and mine. He had seen it first while in…

Pride is 50 today. It was a long way to here. And what a journey it’s been. Now, in late middle age, I can say without hesitation I’m proud to have been on it most of the way. But to begin with, I wasn’t really sure. Pride for me —…

The term ‘breaking news’ has become a byline for shocking news of late. So, when Evan Davies uttered those words towards the end of this afternoon’s PM, I braced myself. Was this to be news of yet further atrocities in Ukraine? I was, as it happens, driving home from a…

It was a slightly indifferent way to end the season. My legs felt heavy after nine races in five months. And after a cautious start — at north of 10k, the course demanded it — I didn’t quite work my way through the field the way I’d hoped. …

In the dead of night over Christmas 1988, I became aware that hardly any of my fingernails had a lunula. I was 27. Until that very moment, their absence had completely passed me by. A lunula is the half-moon shape at the base of your nail, just above the cuticle…

Yesterday was a good day in Scotland. It was the kind of day that reminds us why politics matters. And we seem to have had precious few of those lately. Nicola Sturgeon’s statement on the Historical Sexual Offences (Pardons and Disregards) (Scotland) Bill was pitch perfect. Here was the First…

“At the moment I can only note that the past is beautiful because one never realises an emotion at the time. It expands later and thus we don’t have complete emotions about the present, only about the past.” The Diary of Virginia Woolf, Volume Three, 1925–1930 It’s World AIDS Day…

‘There is a time for the evening under starlight, A time for the evening under lamplight (The evening with the photograph album). Love is most nearly itself When here and now cease to matter.’ T.S. Eliot, East Coker, Four Quartets And then there was one. Ever since I heard you…

I’ve been thinking of writing again for a while. I said I might, didn’t I? I even said I’d let you know how this plague ends. But that looks hopelessly naive now. The way things are going, if I wait until then you could be hanging on a long time…