"WHy on earth would I be remotely interested in going to a movie about sports?" I demanded. I had never been a very sporty type myself, and I didn't see why I would enjoy a movie which was by all accounts something of a biopic of actual, you know, runners - I mean, great, it rocked their boat, but what was in it for me?...
But she was bored, and I had energy to burn, and so three of us set out that evening from the residence hall to catch the train to the next suburb over where the cinema was. I remember that we were late, and we had to race to catch the train which more or less arrived at the station at the same time we did; we piled into it, young, breathless, laughing, all our lives glittering ahead of us, able to do anything or be anybody.
But I still didn't want to go and see a sports movie.
We settled into the cinema, and less than half a minute after that movie began, with THATMUSIC, with those young men running across the beach, I lost my heart completely.
Racing back to catch the train on the return trip to our residence had acquired a whole new meaning by the time we came out of the cinema after "Chariots of Fire". We had wings on our heels; we could "...mount up with wings as eagles...run, and not be weary... walk, and not faint."
This was the sort of movie that you never expected to like, and then found out that it would simply set something inside of you on fire.
I remember running for that late train back to my future, many years ago.
And now, they're re-releasing the thing in cinemas for a limited run
Maybe I can grab a chance to race for one more train, this time back to an age when we were all - the movie, the actors, and I - so young, so young.
(More about the re-release here)