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.
Gear down. Big cog at the back, little one at the front.
ReplyDeleteHe'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.
ReplyDeleteYay for you for riding at all!
ReplyDeleteGreat 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.
ReplyDeleteAnd 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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