The other day and noticed my adolescent progeny in the house watching TV or maybe it was videos on an iPad, or texting on their phones, and since it was a particularly pleasant day, I put them in bear hugs and dragged them outside and locked all the offering devices in a safe. All the time thinking, how can you waste a day, there is so much to experience. Don't they know that eventually they will end up decrepit, and the things that are so easy now won't always be so.
Over last year or two, I have noticed lingering aches that never seem to quite disappear like they used to, a tennis elbow that aches despite never playing tennis, an IT band that doesn't like deep squats and lateral movement, a need for reading glasses when trimming my increasing abundant nose and ear hair. While I can still maintain a steady slog, power and fast twitch movements seem to be in shorter supply. Not only is my temple showing signs of abuse and overuse I know have friends with titanium hips and ceramic knees; a colleague laid low by Parkinson's disease. I'm not sure if that means I'm starting to feel my age, but I no longer feel 30.
I have read that the last things to go are your endurance and the ability to suffer. If I was smart I would be embracing this new reality and be preparing for long slow slogs on gravel backroads between here and the Teton Valley. Instead I find my self wishing that Skalkaho Pass was open so that I could spend my weekends on lift assisted laps at Discovery.
The summer doldrums were upon us with only the residual core crowd ready to ride, along with Bret, who made the journey down from the big city determined to prove that not everyone was Missoula was ironic plaid wearing, gonadal atrophic poseurs.
I'm glad to report back to the surrender monkeys who hid at home as if there was a duck and cover drill in progress that while the valley remainder sweltering, up in the hills the clouds had rolled through leaving behind a film of rain. After playing human squeegee for the undergrowth it cold be described as chilly.
So for those of you who waved the white flag, just remember that your days of riding Blodgett are numbered even if you don't realize it.