I've watched in horror over the years as I creep up the age checklist box on surveys. Old age taunts me as the box for 20-29 becomes 30 to 35. Stupid fucking surveys. Note to self: ignore surveys.
The last ride of my 46th year almost didn't happen. "I'm tired. I got up too early. I FUCKING suck." Seriously, I've got myself convinced that I'm an old fart, decomposing before my very eyes. This has become my rationale for giving up. It's an unbelievable pity trip that I've been basking in way too long.
Enough.
From this day forward, I am no longer my racing age. Instead, I will simply be my racing category--45+. That's my new age. 45+. Technically, we're all decomposing before our collective eyes so I don't know why I am taking this so personally and letting it inhibit my riding pleasure.
Fortunately, I snapped out of my pity torpor and managed a nice 40 miler with George and Naomi (missed you M!). Tonight offered excellent conditions for a ride and I thoroughly enjoyed myself. Almost as much as I did on my 30th birthday ride:
At least I've upgraded my bike since this photo was taken. Thanks, George and Naomi. I can't think of two people I'd rather say "See ya later" to 46 with than you two.
3 comments:
The only alternative to getting older is death. Embrace your age!
shit--you're really that old?? I always assume we're the same age, I turn 40 tomorrow and I am stoked! let's be 40+ together!
xoxoxoxox!!
m
MB--you have no idea how close I was to rejecting your comment! Happy Birthday you old fart. Just remember to keep finishing sexy.
Your pal,
A
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