I just got back from riding my bike to and from the hospital to have blood work done. It's pretty cold out there (3C or 37.5F), so I was feeling pretty tough - like a real cyclist with frozen fingertips.
When I came to the big hill just before the hospital, I passed a man riding on the sidewalk. "it's pretty steep," he said, as I edged past.
"It is," I laughed. I admit that I was feeling pretty smug.
Then he took the wind out of my sails. "At 85 years old, it keeps getting a little harder."
When we reached the top of the hill, we had to stop at the lights. He kept chatting, while I had to gulp for air before I could respond.
When the lights turned green, he sailed past me, seemingly fully recovered from the climb.
Maybe I need more air in my tires. Yeah, that's it. Or maybe I need to tackle that hill more often.
5 comments:
Gear down. Big cog at the back, little one at the front.
He's probably related to the 80 year old men who kicked my butt at the one yoga class I attended. And I didn't even have the cancer excuse yet.
Yay for you for riding at all!
Great story, Laurie. I love to meet and hear about octogenarians + who can accomplish the goals they set, especially the physical ones. It gives me hope to follow these pathfinders.
And you are a pathfinder too; I know lots of women are inspired by many of the things you accomplish and the very words you set to net.
B in T
I love it! Sounds like my Great-Uncle Harold, who was playing tennis daily I believe right up till 99.
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