Thinking back

Last night's ride was tough. Ten minutes into the ride I hit the Ohio Street hill, and slogged my way up it. I was slow, and feeling sluggish. The next hour and a half followed suit. I was convinced something was off on my bike. Maybe a flat? Nope. Maybe a rubbing brake pad? Nope. Just tired, empty, worn-out legs.

The highlight of the ride though, and arguably of this year so far, was on the last mile. I cool down coming back in through the neighborhood, and as usual, was cruising along. I noticed after a few blocks that a kid was flying down the sidewalk on his mountain bike. We were neck and neck. I'd outrun him in spots, and then I'd hear him catching his breath and then the whirrrr of his chain as he pushed on by me. A few blocks later another kid on a BMX bike rode up on my other side and asked if I wanted to race. I agreed, and we cruised along for several blocks. He informed me that he was on a "trick" bike, so that's why he couldn't go any faster (although we were doing about 15, which seemed pretty impressive for a 12 year old on a BMX). A few blocks later he said he had to stop, because he wasn't allowed to go any further past this block. In the end he edged me out for the win.

I couldn't help but smile. It reminded me of all the summer nights as a kid that we'd race around the neighborhood. Everywhere was new back then. We would go cruise around the new development that was being put in at the end of our street. We'd make jumps in the dirt and see who could get the most air. I remember one summer day where I rode off on my own, venturing what I know now to be only about 4 miles, but it felt like a world away at the time. There's something comforting about knowing that our own experiences, however many worlds away from us now, are not gone entirely, just picked up and experienced again by someone else.