September 24, 2009
Do you remember The Great Santini? Of course you do.
After Ben finally beats his overbearing, hyper competitive dad in a one on one basketball game, the Great Santini wants a rematch, and when Ben refuses and walks away, his dad follows him, bouncing a basketball off his head. When Bull finally goes inside, and his wife confronts him, Bull says “Who the hell asked you anything?”
And his wife has the perfect response: “Don’t you talk to me like that. He beat you and it was beautiful!”
Where am I going with this? Don’t ask.
Okay, you asked.
Last night I went for a bike ride with Ian‘s youth group, maybe 6 boys, couple other adults. We started at Suncrest, went over to top of Clarks, did some new trail, down Ghost, played on the stone steps, yada yada yada.
At the bottom of Clarks, because there was what you might call a fairly sizable talent gap between Ian and his friend and the rest of the group, I sent Ian and CJ up from the bridge while I waited for the rest of the group to catch up. I waited maybe five minutes, maybe less. And then I set out to catch Ian.
About a third of the way up, I spotted the two of them, Ian leading. When they looked back and saw me, Ian took off and CJ sagged and slowed. I caught and passed CJ. I closed to within about 100 yards of Ian.
And never got any closer.
I could tell, he had shifted into a gear comparable to my singlespeed 32×21, and was standing, stomping the pedals. So I picked up the pace. I started to sweat. I started to breathe loudly. I started to lose my vision.
And still could not close the gap.
Now, I’m the first to admit (especially right now), I’m not having a banner year. No racing, no real training. But I still get out two or three times a week. I still do big rides, I’m not gaining weight.
And yet he gained. Like the man in black. If the man in black wore a white sleeveless t-shirt, silk shorts, and skate shoes.
I am torn in half. On the one hand, I want to hug him, throw him a party, buy him a Superfly Singlespeed.
On the other hand, I want to kill myself. I’ve been asking friends for advice, celebrate or kill myself. It’s running about 70/30 in favor of self-immolation.