The Beginning

I jokingly ask friends and family, "Who'd have ever thought my mid-life crisis would be bicycling?"  I embarked upon my passion for cycling at 45 years old.  It began with a few rides down the neighborhood trail with my twelve year old and grew from there.  After I had been biking the same trail for a couple of months, I thought I was getting pretty good at it (arrogance is never good) and began to grow tired of the same path day after day, so I contacted a local bike club to see if I could ride along with them.  While I was excited about my first ride with the club, I was also a little skeptical, so I asked Chuck to drive me and to be available if I couldn't finish, and it's a good thing that I had him on call because, well, I had a lot to learn about biking.

When we arrived, there were two very nice gentlemen who assured Chuck that they would stick with me.  We hadn't gotten started well before the man riding behind me who was many years my senior yelled, "Is that as fast as your legs can peddle?"  So, I did try to make them go faster, though I said, "Well...yes, I believe it is."  We had not been a mile before I knew that I would not be finishing the twelve.  We had not gone three miles before I was pretty sure that I was going to throw up, and by the time we finished half the ride, six miles, I tasted blood...really, I did.

I knew then that I had to put myself in training.  Though I do not aspire to break any speed records, I do want to be able to hang with a team for twelve miles.  Most of the time I just want to ride at "my pace" for fun and fitness, but there are times when a little speed is necessary, and I want to be able to peddle a little faster.

So today, I'm still not that fast...up to about 15 easy miles...10 miles an hour, give or take.  That's still not as fast as the bike club riders.  They were riding about 13 mph, and they're considered the recreational riders.  I'm getting there, though.  And persistent.