Skip to main content

What Did You Say?

Finishing Strong
“Tomorrow my plan is to bike ride at least 60 miles, we’ll see how it goes.”

“What did you say?” asked Lori. “I thought we were riding 58 miles?”

Since my 50th birthday my self-proclaimed yearly goal is to complete a bicycle ride, in one day, at least my age, on or near my birthday. On August 17, 2014 Lori and I completed this years ride; a total of 63.5 miles in 5 hours and 17 minutes. A metric century!

With the advent of Facebook, Twitter, and other social media outlets I’ve been able to shout from the mountaintop my proposed goal to all who will listen. Even to those who could care less. This serves two purposes, to sustain a foundational fitness level as I get older. Cycling provides a exercise regiment and long-range goals to keep me motivated. Two, it challenges me to live up to my time commitments in daily activities and relationships. Yes, I truly love cycling. I’ve been a devoted bicyclist since about 15 years old.

The fact is, it’s not the ride that’s difficult. The challenge is - to do what you say you will do.

It’s a disarming thought, always do what you say you’ll do—simple but not painless. Show the world your commitment to integrity. More importantly, it is how you demonstrate dedication to yourself, your family, friends, and your community.

Believe me, after a full round of golf on Saturday, I struggled just to get out of bed that next day. Sore shoulders, stiff neck, stiff back, and I’m certain I could have fabricated a host of other excuses. 

As Socrates said, “Know thyself.”

Well, my legs felt fine. Those other aches and pains, nothing a couple of Advil can’t handle.

Surprisingly, I began to realize just how much everyone listened to my birthday proclamation. Friends and family began sending me messages on Facebook, texts, and phone calls.

“Happy Birthday Patrick! Are you going to ride your age???” from a fellow rider and close friend.

Saturday, 2:26 p.m. a text from my mother-in-law, “Are you through with your bike ride?”

From my brother, “Happy birthday Pat, big 60 gonna be a long ride.”

And a phone call from my mother, “Aren't you tired? You'll cycle your legs off."

“Mom, the ride is tomorrow. There’s a lot less traffic on Sunday’s.”

So, the next morning I’m up at 5:00 a.m. preparing for our ride; checked the air in the tires, clean the chain, and inspect the gears. Now, what most people don’t realize is my best friend and wife, Lori, is right beside me.

With enthusiasm, she is up by six, has her coffee, prepares breakfast, and is ready to hit the road by 7:30 a.m.

As we roll away from the house she says, “I must be a crazy wife to participate in a stunt like this.”

“What do you mean?” I said, we play golf and do all the training rides together.”

Of course, she insists on taking photos and posting our progress on Facebook throughout the entire ride. Start time, rest breaks, food stops, and finishing times. 
Stretching

At our last rest stop, the 55 mile mark, her comment to me was, “I get to stop now - right? You ride home, get the truck, and come pick me up.” 

“What did you say?”

“Just kidding, I just need to stretch my back then I’ll be ready to go.” said Lori.

With the commitment of a trooper she rode ahead to take the attached photo titled, Finishing Strong. If you look carefully you will see our lunch attached to my handlebars.

Well, the next few days we will both take some well deserved time-off. Next weekend we will start preparing for next year’s ride.

“What did you say?”

The lesson learned is to always do what you say. No matter how silly and insignificant what you declare may come across at the time, people do remember.

“I call it selective absorption.”

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

Sunflowers, French Steel, and the Yellow Jersey

Watching Le Tour de France this year, I found myself transported back to August 1983 as the Peloton in Stage 10, Bastille Day, flowed through the French countryside like a brightly colored ribbon. I was in my twenties, visiting family in the Charente-Maritime region of France, completely obsessed with bicycle racing—and convinced I was much stronger than I was. My connection to cycling—and to France—runs deep. I was born in France, and my very first real road bike, at age fifteen, was a Mercier . To me, it wasn’t just a bicycle; it was a work of art made from beautiful French steel. I rode that bike for miles, through high school, into college, and until the day someone decided they needed it more than I did. I hope they at least appreciated the craftsmanship. Its untimely disappearance led me to a Schwinn Voyageur, and later, when I started racing around Illinois, to a Raleigh Competition . But during that summer of ’83, while staying with my Uncle Jean Paul in Lagord, just north of L...

Rediscovering the Magic of Summer . . .

Summer mornings, especially on a holiday weekend, have a special magic. The air is cool, the world quiet, and the day full of possibilities. This July 4th weekend, Lori and I decided to capture a bit of that magic by beating the holiday traffic with an early morning bicycle ride. We went through our usual pre-flight checklist: Stretched out the morning stiffness. Filled the water bottles. Strapped on the helmets. Checked the tires. Three tires passed inspection. The fourth had apparently declared independence. The rear tire on my e-bike was flatter than a Kansas highway. “Well, it looks like we’re not riding today,” Lori said, with the calm acceptance of someone who had already mentally promoted coffee to the day’s main event. “Why not?” I replied. “I’ll ride my old bike.” She gave me that look —the one that safely translates as, "Are you sure about this? " “Absolutely,” I said. “Why not?” I dragged the bike stand out and surveyed my options. One glance at the aggressive gear...

The Places You'll Go . . .

Well, the time has arrived. Yes, July's drawing near, And somehow I've managed to last seven years! I've analyzed forecasts and studied the trends, While spreadsheets multiplied without seeming to end. We've planned for the sunshine, the storms, and the load, while Mother Nature kept changing the code. But through all the numbers, the forecasts, and charts, the best part of Cenergy's always been hearts. The people beside me, year after year, Made even the toughest challenges clear. To the bright, talented folks reading this today, The future is yours now—you're well on your way. And unlike my era, here's the key: You’ll work with AI just as smooth as can be. The reports that took hours may take only minutes. The models you build with intelligence in it. The data will flow faster than ever before, While AI handles tasks that are mostly a bore! But here's my advice as I head out the door: Technology changes, but people matter more. AI can predict, calcula...

Parabolic Arcs, and Pulled Putts

In this episode, the Retirement Mulligan Welcome to the first official morning of the rest of my life. With no alarms and no meetings, chasing a little white ball around The Lakehouse—a par-58 canvas—felt like the perfect way to christen retirement. Golf is a game of profound integrity, so I must disclose that my playing partner, Steve, and I took a couple of mulligans off the tee today. When you overswing like you're launching into low-Earth orbit, the most mature choice is sometimes a do-over. In retirement, these aren't mulligans. They are Executive Retirement Relief Strokes —a benefit package we’ve earned. When the swing connected exactly as intended, it was pure geometry in motion. Watching a crisply struck iron trace a towering parabolic arc against the San Marcos sky is the everyday magic we try to capture here at On the Fly . We witnessed it eleven times today, to be exact. Hitting eleven greens in regulation meant I repaired so many of my own pitch marks that I wonder...