“If God is making you wait then be prepared to receive more than what you asked for.” - Anonymous

25 September

“The Human Condition: A User’s Manual,” by Arnold Kunst

I really like cycling. In fact, in my last job I had chosen both a car and a car-pool partner for just that purpose. My station wagon was merely a glorified bike rack. And I found myself an accommodating car-pool partner at work who got my car’s spare key. We’d meet 15 or 20 miles from work and go in together in one car. On days I’d cycle either I would take the bike out when we got to work if we went in my car, or I would leave the bike at work the previous day if we went in his car. Anyway, I’d typically get in two, maybe even three, days of cycling this way.

When another co-worker heard of my interest in cycling she asked if I had ever considered doing the AIDS ride: raise $2,500 for the privilege of cycling from SF to LA - 585 zig-zag miles over 7 days in early June.

I was immediately intrigued and started questioning her about it. Well, the more we talked about it the more excited I became. Raising all that money, the physical challenge, meeting interesting, can-do people – she even said the food was to die for!

Yes, the more I thought and talked about this idea the more excited I became – in facrt, that abiding interest became something of an infallible indication that I should do it. But I had two problems: I was going to be 61 in June when the event was scheduled, and I was a good 50 pounds overweight.

Then one day in early December while cycling from work to my car, as a complete fluke, I met another cyclist. His bike looked really impressive. I said to him, “that’s a beautiful bike you’ve got there; you must have paid a fortune for it!” He said, “I don’t know how much it cost; I got it from the manufacturer for nothing.” He then went on to explain that he was a professional cyclist, so I asked him about my excitement/problem. He said, “How many miles do you do now, and how fast do you do them?” I said, “I do 19 miles usually twice a week, and with a tail wind I can do it in a little under an hour.”

That was all he needed. “You can do it,” he said simply. “It’s December now; you’ve got a good six months to train, and with the weather getting better and the days getting longer you could grow your weekly mile count to over 150 in the weeks just before the big event.” “How will I know I’m ready?” I asked. “When you can do 65 miles in a day, then get up the next day and do 65 miles, then get up the next day, you’re ready. If you can’t get up on that third day, you’re not ready.”

The whole conversation only lasted about 8 minutes, then we parted company, and I never saw him again. But those 8 minutes changed everything. I learned that, besides raising $2500, all I had to do was make the pedals go around lots and lots of times. There’s one downside to this: I can’t ever look at a really hard thing, an impossible thing even, and say, “I couldn’t ever do that!”

“Impossible!” became “I’mPossible!”

How’s this for a PS? I did the ride, pedaling every mile God gave me, and on the very last day, at a break stop a mere 40 miles shy of Dodger Stadium, a doctor on the staff asked me if she could take my picture.

Somewhat shocked, I asked, “why?” “Because I work with geriatrics in Saint Louis, and I want to bring back photographic proof that old guys can be VERY active.”