I Gotta Stop Racing People - Old People Don't Race!

Or do they?

9/2/2014, 251lbs - 57 pounds lost since 8/30/2011
40 Minutes

When I turned 60, about a year-and-a-half ago, I had a meeting with myself and agreed that I would not be so competitive when I'm out riding the bike. Mind you, I don't go out to be competitive, but when I see another cyclist I can't seem to stop myself. I - have - to - go - faster!! I'm a freak. So when 60 happened, and I decided I should be biking like old people bike, part of it was promising myself to not chase down and pass roadies.

Roadies? You've seen them. Tight, lycra shorts; colorful jerseys; Thousand Dollar racing bikes. They're all over the place. They don't go out for bike rides; they train. When I see one of these guys, I can't resist. I have to try to chase them down and pass them.

Am I successful? Occasionally. The type of bike I ride is called a City Bike, and they are built for fast city riding and commuting. A great percentage of urban cyclists and commuters use these bikes, and they're not slow bikes by any means. Here's mine, dressed:

Looks like a Roadie Eater, right? Right?

And guys like me ride our urban bikes every day. We're in all parts of the city, challenging cars for lanes, riding to the post office and the shops and the movies. We are as likely to hop on the bike to run an errand as use the car. Since we're on our bikes all the time, why would we not be in condition enough to challenge these road guys?

So today, on the Tuesday of my vacation, I decided to go for a spin on the bike. My goal today was to merely put in about 30 minutes of aerobics, then to lock up the bike and have breakfast at the local Village Inn. After about 35 minutes of moderate sight-seeing, I headed West towards the VI. I probably had about two miles to go to get to the restaurant, flying down a neighborhood street. As I passed an intersection, I looked to the left - and passing through the intersection only a block away, going my direction, were two Roadies! My eyes got big and I felt myself starting to drool.

I told myself not to race these guys. I'm 61 darn years old, I said. But I suddenly found myself in a higher gear, a brisker spin, increasing speed to 15 - 16 - 17mph. At the next intersection, I glanced over - and they were a little further behind! Then another block passed, and a steeper downhill part of the street sent me to over 20mph - I looked to the left again - I had gained another 15 or 20 feet! I was kicking their you-know-whats! It doesn't matter that:

• They were out on a leisurely spin, having a nice conversation 
• They had no idea at all that they were in a race
• Their two ages, combined, were still 20 years younger than I

But I beat them! No excuses!

See you on the bike!