…. is how the world prefers to see and label late 50’s like
me. And nowhere else this rings the loudest than in my chosen sport. For many,
I am too old to be riding those roots and ruts and drops on my mountain bike that
me and Carmella lovingly calls Tracy. Yes, for many, I am ancient.
But is it I and the ones like me who are ancient? If the
view comes from they who believe I should be counted among those who limit
their life adventures to morning walks inside the Manila Memorial Park, followed by round (or square) table discussion of current events from the free newspaper
they get for having breakfast at McDonald’s, then ancient belongs to them.
Me and my ilk would rather see our limits, hear our
breathing, and define for ourselves how brave is brave. We would rather live
our life and live it to the fullest. We would rather mount that bike and ride that dangerously off-cambered path leading to the trail head, pedal like
crazy up that cursed uphill, leaning your bike towards to that tight single
track turn, in the attack position every time.
Oh yes, we are ordinary mortals. Like the Manila Memorial Park
Morning Walkers Inc., we do round (or rectangle) table discussions. In Bebe’s along Victoria
Avenue, we talk about our steeds, not to boast about our treasure for that
belongs to the poseur more than the mountain biker, but anything that
levels you up from the ordinary is always hot topic and worth discussing.
And so we ride. Like Dan and Demjur who are also in their late 50’s, we ride. For no experience reminds us we are alive better than being on
our bikes and hitting the trails. Clip in!
