Receiving my "come uppance" AGAIN

Friends, may I ask you-have you ever had to learn a lesson about life in the form of receiving a "come uppance" or two?  Nah, probably not~but I surely have and today I got one "ouch, that kind of hurts" teachable moment as I walked my mile route in the underground tunnel at Hutchinson Hospital.


You know, even before my accident, I was out there on a regular basis walking the path that leads from the basement of the hospital to the nursing home facility on the other side of the parking area.  If you walk a certain path, 3 times, then you will have gone a mile.  I love to walk there, especially in cold winter weather.  It's safe, secure, well lit, and best of all, there are absolutely no curbs to make you fall.  (that's the best part)


Lots of people take advantage of it, from the very young to the very old.  It is especially popular with the patients in rehab after heart procedures. Often you'll see them walking with a buddy and I applaud them in their efforts to get back some semblance of their former good health.  


And then, there's THAT guy...I've seen him walk for months out there.  A friendly guy, always smiling, giving a nice greeting.  And I always took pride that I could "out walk" him ANY day of the week. Deep inside of me from my most "smug" self,  I'd wave to him, say "Hi" and then just breeze right past him every single time.  It's a wonder that I didn't "throw a hip out" or something.  But I did it anyway.


Ok, I'm going to say this in the most endearing and loving way I know how to, I consider him an "old geezer" and I know that he would laugh at me and say that I was right, that he was.  Well tonight, that "old geezer" left ME in a cloud of dust, not only lapping me once but actually lapping me twice.  I thought "what the heck just happened here?"  I couldn't believe it and for once, it was him wearing the grin on his face.


The last lap, with me huffing and puffing with my out of shape self, he managed to come up beside me and actually slow down enough for us to have a conversation.  When he asked me what had happened to my arm, for just one brief moment in time I wanted to make up a "new" version of "old-lefty's" saga.


"Well, you see it was like this....I was in a surfing contest on the beach in California and I was doing so well...just about to take first place, when a huge wave came up and knocked me clean off the board.  My arm broke as I was fighting off a shark that was trying to get my board before I did!"  


"Oh I broke it last August 4th.", I said without telling the whole story.  


"How?" he wondered.


"Well, believe it or not, I tried to jump a curb while riding my bike." There, I'd said it~about as big a piece of "humble pie" that I'd eaten in a long, long time.  


With a little grin on his face and right before he sped away once again, he gave me a piece of advice.


"Well, promise be that you will be careful from now on.  Remember you aren't a teenager any more "Missy"." And with that, he was off and running.  And I was standing there bewildered wondering how that all took place.  I had just gotten "smoked" by an old guy!


The experience reminded me of what happened on the eve before Day #1 of the BAK last summer.  My son (Grahame) had hauled my bike and I out to the far western Kansas town of Tribune in anticipation for the start of the nearly 500 mile journey.  I decided that I'd like to do the "official first 20 miles" by starting out at the Kansas-Colorado line.  So after leaving all of my gear in Tribune, I had Grahame take me out to the border.


Nearly 1,500 miles of riding during 2011 had really strengthened up my legs, or so I thought :)  I was sure that if I could keep up a decent pace that I could be back in town in well under 2 hours.  So off I went heading east towards that grain elevator far off in the distance marked "Tribune".  My rule was this~No one was going to pass me!  No one....Well, that worked out pretty well for about 5 miles and after that, well things changed.  


When the first rider, a guy who was obviously much more experienced at riding than me, passed me, I determined that a new rule was in order~I would only let one guy pass me.  That actually seemed the way it would be until about mile 9 or 10.  That's when the first "old guy" passed me...and he didn't just pass me....he FLEW by me.  Geesch, before I made it back to Tribune I had to change my "rule" 5 different times until in its finality it sounded like this~I will ONLY let 5 guys and 2 old geezers pass me before I get back to Tribune.  Sounds kind of stupid on my part now...but then it was my motivation to keep on "trucking" back to town.  I guess a person has to do that from time to time.  :)  LOL


If I ever get my strength back, if I ever get back on that bike and "ride like the wind" I hope that this time around I'm more appreciative of all the folks out there trying to get some exercise during the course of the day.  Whether they go slow or fast, it matters not.  What does count in the whole scheme of things is that they are out there, moving their bodies along.  I've just had lesson #3 and no doubt there will be many more.  Friends, you know I've said it more than once, I'm a pretty slow learner.


And oh, by the way, in case some of my Facebook friends who are guys should be wondering.  I don't consider you guys old geezers just yet.  :)  You still have quite a ways to go!

"Camp Miller" on the eve of Day #1 of the BAK in Tribune, Ks.  The best 223+ miles I have ever ridden!  

Grahame had one heck of a set up in the back of the Colorado.  He was quite comfortable inside.  He spent the night in Tribune before leaving back for Reno County in the morning.  I'll never forget the feeling of seeing him pass all of us as we were riding out that morning towards Scott City.  I knew it was all up to me to get wherever it was that I was going now.  Pretty sobering thought at the time.