A TRIATHLETE LOOKS AT LIFE AT 28

I am not old. I don't feel it and- short of a rapidly vanishing hairline- I don't look like it. That said, I'm not the invincible carefree guy that I was just seven years ago. Physically I can no longer pull off a ten beer night and then run 12 miles the next morning at sub 6:30 pace. Heck, nowadays I can't even think of putting back ten beers without getting a headache. Yes, things have changed.
Endless time for training has given way to going grocery shopping with my wife, cleaning out the garage, and changing diapers. But what is truly scary is that I find these mundane tasks to be rewarding in their own right. Even changing diapers. Still, I never thought of myself as getting ...ahem..old. Then this week passed by.
I was pounding out the miles on the treadmill when I felt a twang in my right calf. It felt like a nail was driven right through the muscle. I avoided a tumble but had to hop off the treadmill in shame. I never had a calf strain before. Looked it up on the internet-found out that it was an injury that most often afflicts those who have reached the so called "middle-age" portion of their life. "Middle-age", what a horrible term. Especially when you are 28!!!
Then my three month old daughter got sick. It was just a cold. But watching her cough felt worse than any physical injury. To make her smile and giggle I smothered my cutie with kisses all over her face. It worked, but a couple of days later I got whatever nasty bug she had. Lately I've been going through kleenex with reckless abandon. It was worth it. So what does this have to do with cycling?
Something, I promise. I went back to my five mile loop and cranked out 35 miles on each of the past three days. In between the hacking coughs and thick phlem I rode with a vigor in spirit that my body could not match. I churned my speedplays until my quads roared with a fire that matched the burning in my throat. All told I was slow. Even with the flash-points I was a solid 1-1.5mph below my average pace.  But it felt good. Damn good. There is something poetic about battling the road. For every hilll isn't just an obstacle for you and the bike, it's a challenge unto yourself. I think on the bike, but my mind does not wander. My thoughts run something like...gearshift...avoid that branch...take that corner tight...go! go! go! Illness may hold back my often marginal speed but not my effort.
But after I finished cycling these last few days I had time to reflect. Sure I'm angry that I won't be able to run for another week, but I now have an excuse to go buck wild on my bicycle. One that I couldn't afford if I wasn't middle-aged. And when I go home it won't be to a dirty apartment with Mystery Science Theater 3000 posters on the wall, but to a clean house with a loving family. Sure the responsibilities have increased but so has the fullfilment. And while I might be more injury prone nowadays. I can still give it my all on a race course, and leave the average 21 year old far behind and gasping for air. In fact the more I think about it the only thing I miss about my early twenties is my hair. ;)