Deference is normally in order when a white haired official of a sport makes an observation about the nature of the competition, but this was an exception.

We had both admired the thrilling sight of the massed ranks of Scottish athletic club members charging away from the start line in the swamp that Falkirk’s Callendar Park had been transformed into on Saturday when, after an initial climb then loop, they hove back into view, in fox and hound formation.

“That lad has got a bit over excited,” suggested the venerable one.

“He’s got three very hard laps to go over this ground.”

There had been some mystery surrounding which of the leading contenders would be in the final line-up, but thankfully my eyes did not deceive me.

“I think you’ll find that’s Callum Hawkins,” I replied.

“If so I suspect he’ll be more than capable of keeping that going the whole way.”

It was a bit of a leap of faith, based purely on having watched the way the youngster from Kilbarchan has been prepared to take on the world’s greatest runners in Rio, at the Great(ish) Scottish Run and most notably at the Great Edinburgh Cross Country in which he left even a mud-spattered Mo Farah trailing, however ignorance can sometimes be bliss.

What our good-natured little exchange really served to demonstrate, however, is that part of the beauty of what is happening in Scottish Athletics right now is that even those who have been around the scene for many years are being repeatedly surprised by the achievements of runners like Hawkins and Laura Muir, to name but two.

The spirit that is driving it, an exemplar to all others in what are dire days for our most popular team sports – football, rugby and cricket – as the re-energising of the club scene has led to an explosion of talent, was provided by Hawkins’ fellow Olympians in the Falkirk country park.

At every point prior to the women experiencing the down-side of gaining equal rights in sport as, for the first time ever, they covered the same length of course as their male counterparts, Beth Potter had every reason to withdraw from the defence of her title over such cloying terrain having had a problem with a foot ligament in the build-up. All the more so when she then took a tumble on the first lap with Morag MacLarty already having established a lead.

Instead the woman who decided after competing in the Olympic 5000m at Rio last year that she needed a tougher challenge, picked herself up and battled back to win a race with Sarah Inglis for second place in the finishing straight. Since she also boasts a background in swimming, if she can get her cycling technique sorted out the world of triathlon had better look out for this one because she clearly has the character required.

Meanwhile, another Olympian did not take part, MacLarty’s now better known clubmate deciding against competing, but rather than hide away in shame Andy Butchart was seen on the sidelines roaring on his training partners as Central Athletics Club maintained their stranglehold on the men’s team event, winning it for a seventh successive season.

Yet, as trite as it can seem to say so, the real triumph at an event such as last Saturday’s is not that of those who seem to skim over the mud in posting times that would be beyond the capabilities of 99 per cent of humanity running on tracks.

What truly inspires is the performance of their clubmates and rivals who took more than twice as long to get round, but had the guts to keep dragging their feet out of that brown glue time after time in order to get to the other end. In hiking boots there were points on the immediate perimeter of the course that were not negotiable so it is hard to imagine that the tiny spikes on those flimsy little running shoes they wear could have given much purchase.

Hats off then, to Sean Mcgleenan of Dumfries Running Club, a man of my vintage who battled with that course for 42 minutes more than young Hawkins in finishing 647th among the male competitors and to Sharon Taylor of Westerlands, who got a wee bit closer to MacLarty as the 269th woman home in just over an hour and 16 minutes.

Time, too, for The Herald team to look at our deputy sports editor Gordie Stevenson in a different light after he completed the course in 44 mins 37 secs.

And his hero’s welcome on returning home . . .

“Jill made me strip in the back garden,” he lamented, admitting that he had not been among those who had the foresight to take advantage of the pond created by the overnight rains and wash themselves down before heading back to their cars.

After an event in which more people participated than have attended many of this season’s Premiership football matches, the glow of satisfaction on Saturday evening will, however, have been more than sufficient compensation for the hardship endured by one and all.