On our journey through life, the beginning and the end are two major events, pity we do not know how far apart.

No one really expected the bell when it rang. The sprinters were all way too far back and the stayers had hardly begun their grind and the early breaks had been caught but the real ones had not gone. But there it was and that was that: one more lap and the race would be over. No second chance, no lap of grace, no repechage, no appeals, just over.

This bell was big and heavy with some nautical history to it and the only man who could really produce the required volume and duration of clangs was a swarthy character with lots of hair and a beard as black as the night. Always on his post, he was referred to as the Bell Man but some called him Mr Bell and the Afrikaans lads sometimes called him Klokkies but not when he could hear them. No one knew his real name.

The bell man has a vital role to play in every race when he announces the arrival of the final lap, but only in the Unknown Distance is he the only one who knows when this will happen, having determined this in secret with the commissaire up front.  This, we found out, was what Mr Bell lived for. He had a way of sneaking the big bell away from its normal resting place next to the lap counter so that no one knew where it was and then, as if by some magic, it was there in his hand and the loud ringing would bring near chaos into the bunch as the sprint developed for the line. Watching the anticipation grow on his expressive face as lap after lap was completed and then seeing the ecstasy when he finally announced the arrival of the climax was almost as good as seeing the race itself.

Having been in the sport all his life, the bell man knew everything about the sport of track racing. He lived under the stands and on rare occasions, he would talk after completion of a night’s work.

“Now take the Unknown Distance. Some say it is not a big event, just a filler, but I say this is the real race, this is the big event!  Everyone takes part in it; it is not like the specialist events where only a few sprinters or pursuiters compete or like the mile where there is only enough space for a few because it is so short. And the beauty is, when the distance is not known, everyone stands a chance of winning!”

Moving into a more comfortable position among his many blankets and absentmindedly rubbing the ears of a small dog that lived with him, memories were coming back.

“Remember the time when that big sprinter thought starting meant winning and we made it so long that he had no legs and was beaten by the stayers because he also had no help? And the time we made it so short that no-one expected the bell and there was a pile-up as they scrambled and a three-way tie? But the thing is, you have to always surprise the boys. Let the early breaks go; they will come back.  And when the real break goes, don’t be in a hurry. Give it time to develop. Those who missed it may still get across, those who do not belong there will drop. Be patient. Let them roll, let them forget they are racing, lull them, put them to sleep.”

His words now coming more slowly, his voice deeper but his eyes alert, eyebrows high in anticipation as he awaits the moment.

“Then, bang! The bell! Five hundred to go! Now you will see the guy who has played by the rules: he has done enough but he has not done too much. He has worked for others but has also allowed others to work for him. He has formed alliances and if it is his night, he will prevail. See how he instinctively finds the right wheel to lead him out to two hundred, how he can now hold off even the sprinters as they go into the bank. This is the guy who knew what the distance was long before he started.”

We could not always follow his philosophical understanding of the event but it was clear to us that he interpreted this at a deeper level. 

When he was last seen, many years later, he was still living under the stands and he was a contented man.

“I have played by the rules. I still don’t know what the distance will be, but I have done enough without doing too much.  I have had a lap of grace; I am ready for the bell”.