Thoughts from the Saddle: Not Every Man Lives...

So I set out to find more ways to get in cycle time. I really do enjoy cycling, thanks to a very generous friend at church. He not only gave me a bike that is absolutely amazing, but he also equipped me with short liners, cycling shorts, socks, and a helmet. The shorts are my favorite, they are bibs, actually. They have a bunch of holes on one of the legs because of a spill he took.

Fast forward to today. I find a cycling group that meets in Irvine, close to where I work and they ride a 2.7 mile loop for one hour, and get in about 20 miles. I thought to myself, "Self. Why don't you do that." They meet on Tuesdays at 5:30, I can do that.

So I pull into the lot where they meet. Well, these guys are pro cyclists. Fully sponsored team jerseys and shorts. Bikes worth more than I make in a year. Shoes that only Lance Armstrong would wear. I mean these guys are dressed to the 9's, true pros.

To add even more to the situation, they are fit...I mean FIT. And their legs were sites to behold. So as I am casing the situation, getting my bike out of the truck I notice a couple of guys in gray hair, easily mid 50's or older. Same uniforms as the other guys, but older. And they have a tandem.

"Perfect!" I thought. "I will just keep up with them and draft. This will be easy, a little challenging but riding in a group helps cut the effort."

So there I stand with my beautiful bike. Hole riddled shorts, $10 Aviator sunglasses from Olvera Street, a helmet whose strap is held together by electrical tape, cotton socks from Costco (you know the kind, with the thick Gray soles...I love those!), leg warmers that are a little stretched out, and over my cool jersey a red sweatshirt from Target. Because it was very cold and I don't have cycling cold weather shells. Oh, and we cannot forget the lumps. My lovely manly lumps. That, rest assured, not a single other rider had.

So no one talks to me at first. Then one guy, Ben says "Hi!"

"Cool," I thought. "Umm this is my first time." As if he could not tell.

"These guys are pretty serious," he responds, "I come to get a good work out, but, don't be surprised if you can't keep up."

"Oh, I won't be. I am just here to ride be among other cyclists. I am here for my health." I say ever so proudly. And nerdy.

I felt so out of place but wanting not to be.

Another guy rode the loop once with me during warm up. He was cool, his name was John and was a serious rider though not part of the racing team that made up the majority of the group.

So the ride begins to form at the start point, I am coming back from a warm up round but keep going. I figured they would catch up to me, no sense in starting with them only to drop off. It would be equally humiliating to get passed.

"When they catch me I will just hook in with the old guys on the tandem." Naively thought I.

I was at the crest of the hill, quite proud of myself for maintaining a 9.5 mph pace up the climb, when I heard a humm. I looked over my right shoulder, trying not veer off into the sidewalk , and about 300 yards back is the pack. I laugh to myself.

"This is going to be funny. Here I am plodding away and these guys are going to pass me at speeds 3 times what I am doing. But here comes the down hill and I still am hund--" WHOOSH WHOOSH WHOOOSH WHOOSH...I have been passed.

But no worry, I am on the down hill I can keep up with them, oh and there goes the Old Tandem Riders. These guys look like Penn and Teller. No proble---WHOOSH WHOOOSH...they passed me too and I cannot catch up. I am now going 28 mph and cannot keep up.

So I went on to the bottom of the hill and watch them make the turn in great precision and speed. I do the same, only with a little less speed. I caught up to them at the stop light. And when the light turned green, before I could clip in to take off, I was alone again. Good times. I tried to catch up, getting up to 30 mph but could not catch them. They were easily hitting 40 mph. I came to find out later that they were taking the climbs at 25mph. The same climb that I was proud to hit 9.5 on.

I was WAAYY out of my league. But once in the middle and at the very end, Ben stopped at the crest of the hill and waited for me. The old guys on the tandem, Penn and Teller, they lapped me like 5 times. Pfft!! Old guys.

Ben was cool. He told me he started riding 2 years ago and has lost 70 lbs.. He was a cool guy and was clearly worked by the team. He kept up with them better than I did but by the end he was dropped.

I had a blast. Most of the time I was alone, almost all of the time except for when I was being passed. But I was not disheartened. I loved hearing the gears and grunts of these athletes and for a brief moment I was in the pack with them. It felt good.

I don't know if I will ever get that good. Don't know if I want to. Maybe when I am in my fifties and I can find another guy to ride tandem with me.

I found hapiness in being the new guy with the ratty shorts and $15 tech sweatshirt from Tar-jay. For now, the race is to lose the weight so that I can live. The race is to beat diabetes, to make it die before me. The race is to cross the first of many finish lines in the many physical feats that await me. The race is to live. All men die. Not every man truly lives.

I lived today. I lived well.