IT IS A SURE ROAD TO DISAPPOINTMENT to use your memories of yourself as 30-something as the basis of comparison with the capabilities of your 60 year old self.  But inevitably that seems to be what I find myself doing.

In the case of today's ride, the inclination was even stronger because of who I was riding with.  My companion was a friend I've known since he was a teen-ager and I was in my early 30s.  He was a member of a group of teens I and several other adults were mentoring, in conjunction with Cycle Across Maryland, or CAM.

Heart

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CAM had partnered with select high schools around the state, offering kids the opportunity to participate in the "Teen Challenge".  The proposition was that if the kids came out for weekly training rides beginning in early April and running through tour time in late July, they could join the tour and by finishing they earned a bike to keep.

The impact the program had on the participants was, in many cases, profound and long-lasting.  It taught them the value of persistence, how to plan to make incremental progress toward what seemed at the outset to be an unattainable goal ("What?  Ride 350 miles in a week?  On a bicycle?  Are you crazy?"), and many other important life lessons.

This particular young man has gone on to found a Teen Challenge-inspired program in his church, so  he's now on the giving end of the relationship.  We've recently reconnected, after many years of being out of touch, and he's mentioned several times how much the program helped him, and how grateful he is to the program in general and to me in particular.

The rub comes because he remembers me as I was: young, strong, and in my prime.  My vanity now forces me to try to live up to that nearly three decades old image, which is hopelessly unattainable.

We went for a short ride today, only 11.7 miles, but it was enough.  The weather was chilly and windy, something neither of us particularly relish. It was, in fact, quite reminiscent of our first meeting 28 years ago this very weekend.

But neither of us was willing to call off the ride outright, so we went.  We enjoyed riding together, and kept ourselves to a very sustainable and manageable pace.  I think we each realize we're no longer the powerhouses we once fancied ourselves to be, but neither wanted to admit defeat by being the first to throw in the sponge.

At an opportune moment, where it made sense to turn back toward home due to time constraints, I think we were each secretly pleased to have an acceptable reason (excuse) not to take the longer option.  So, in the end, vanity and pride were conquered and replaced with a (semi-)graceful and tacit acknowledgment that we are, in fact, mortals after all.