What, me worry?

Another day. The ride home last night was amusing; I wore myself out trying to keep up with a biker who'd passed me. I'm amazed at how mundane folks (versus superbikers -- I expect the superbikers to do so) can pass me, even when I'm in a high gear, like 20th gear, cruising steadily. Anyway, if somebody like that passes me, I use them as my pace bike, try to keep up with them. It's a very Aries thing to do, I'm sure, all competitive and what-not. They don't realize I'm pacing them because they're able to keep a distance from me, usually widening the distance until they're out of eyeshot. It's amazing to me that I can't beat them. Again, pure Aries, that -- like "Me? Beaten?? Impossible!" Hahah!

I "won" yesterday -- my pace biker passed me at 53rd Street and I eventually retook the lead at Shedd Aquarium (so you can get a sense of how long it took to pass them; I only managed it because they'd paused at McCormick Place to get a drink, and I'd been able to close the distance -- I'd actually given up being able to catch them yesterday, grumbled "You beat me." under my breath, only to get that second chance when they'd paused -- even then, it took me the distance from McCormick to Shedd to finally pass them, even with the closed distance).

It's true, though -- I work best if I have somebody to contend with; like I'd never go jogging by myself -- but if I were racing somebody, I'd try like hell to beat them. I'm a competitive cuss, my lovelies. My bike pacers never realize I'm racing them, mainly because they've left me in the dust.

But yesterday's "race" left me pretty tired; I was down for a couple of hours, not like flat on my back, but just bone-tired. It's tough to be 37. What a stupid age. I first noticed getting tired when I was 33, when we owned our house, and I'd spend a weekend mowing the @#$% monster lawn we had, and I'd be measurably tired afterward. That was a new feeling for me, he of the boundless energy.

I worry about that, some; I've written about this before, but a key component of who I am (beyond love, humor, enthusiasm, sarcasm, irony, and angst) is energy -- I'm a tireless bundle of energy. But as I get older, that energy is less forthcoming, and I worry about that. Take away the energy, and a key component of who I am is kinda gone.

Certainly I've been exercising harder this summer than I have in years, and it's helped (I guess), but the aches and pains sneak in there, and the need for down time creeps in. And this is just at 37! I can't imagine 47! 57! And so on. Learning that stuff first creeps in at your 30s was a real kicker. For some reason I figured the 20s and 30s would be mostly the same, but they're not. It's when baseball players start to fall apart, and now I find myself understanding that, realizing "Ah, yes. That's how it is."

I've decided not to bike every day; weather permitting, I'll likely do it three or four days a week. I find that taking a day off helps me exercise better, whereas if I do five days a week, I feel a little ground down. That said, I'm biking again today, because it's going to be a good weather day.

Blah blah blah-blah blah! <-- my impression of this entry