So I’m cruising across my home state, singing with my family, heading back to our mountain home after my 30-year high school reunion. Realizing how good I have it. Great wife, great kid, great lifestyle. Life is better in so many ways than I imagined in the mid-’80s.
We are at the point in life in which our scars are more entertaining than our trophies. Some of us are still married to our first picks. Some are not. Some look better, some look well-fed. Most seemed pretty happy, though we also took a moment to remember those the class has lost since the last reunion, and found we will likely lose another before the next one.
By any measure, we are all at least to the halfway point of this crazy ride of life. None of us will be Olympians, hoist a professional sports champion trophy or compete at the Word Road Championships. We will all keep moving on. I hope to pick up something new.
Friends have suggested to me that I pick up track racing. In fact, a friend suggested this almost 20 years ago. Like so many things, I’ve been slow to take hints and help. At nearly 49, I plan to spend this autumn learning the finer points of fixed-gear racing.
I’m taking the advice of my lovely wife and not comparing myself to today’s pros, heroes of the past or even my own peers. It’s just me vs me. Not the me I was 20 or 30 years ago, or the athlete I could have been, but the best me I can be right now. This should be fun
So, let’s shake off the tough moments from the first half, try to learn a little something and apply that to the second half. Laugh and learn from the mistakes. Be grateful for the experiences. Be grateful that I got this far. Hang on and smile. The next half should be entertaining, as well.
Have fun, be safe. I’m going riding.