Skip to main content

2018 Birthday Ride

It’s called a Metric Century, we call it this years birthday ride. Distance: 62.5 miles, ride time 5 hrs. 19 minutes 12 seconds, average speed 11.7 mph.

I’m fairly certain that I will never shoot my age in Golf, swim the English Channel, or for that matter ride the Race Across America. However, since my 50th birthday my self-proclaimed yearly goal is to complete a bicycle ride, in one day, at least my age in miles, on or near my birthday. This year,  August 16, 2018, this olé boy has completed 62 trips around the Sun on this home we call Earth. That’s really hard to believe.

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; first, to sustain a foundational fitness level as I get older.

Dr. Dennis Waitley reminds us that our bodies are, “Our transportation vehicle to the future.” Cycling provides an exercise regiment and long-range goals to keep me healthy and motivated. Two, it challenges me to live up to my time commitments in daily activities and relationships. Busy, irregular work schedules make it difficult sometimes almost impossible to maintain a fitness program. But come what may, I’m devoted to cycling. I’ve been a distance bicyclist since about 15 years old.

The fact is, it’s not the ride that’s difficult (provided you properly train). The real challenge is - to Do What You Say you will do.

It’s a disarming thought, always do what you say you’ll do—simple yet profound. 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 weeks work at Home Depot pounding the concrete, I’m tired and sore. (My Fitbit records an average of 5-7 miles per day). Sore shoulders, stiff neck, stiff back, sore hips, and I’m certain I could have fabricated a host of other excuses.

As Socrates said, “Know thyself.”

Well, my cycling legs feel 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.

“Happy Birthday Patrick. Start out easy, like to the mail box and back!"

“Go for it Patrick! Age is a number not a barrier . . . keep on keeping on.”

So, it’s Sunday morning, I’m up at 5:00 a.m. preparing for our ride; a good breakfast, a shower, stretching, check 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 all the way. She reminds me to eat something every hour, is our route planner, photographer, and cheerleader. With enthusiasm, she is up by six, has her coffee, breakfast, and is ready to hit the road by 7:00 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? We play golf, go hiking, and do all the training rides together.”

Of course, she insists on taking photos. Start time, rest breaks, food stops, and finishing times. This year finishing strong with a video of me huffing and puffing my way up the hill home.

Our last rest stop, lunch, the 55 mile mark, her comment to me was, “I get to stop in four miles - right? You ride home, get the truck, and come pick me up.”

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

With the commitment of a trooper she rode ahead to take the attached video titled, Finishing Strong.

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.

The lesson learned - always Do What You Say. No matter how silly and insignificant what you declare may come across at the time, people do remember. And most of all, it is how you demonstrate dedication to yourself.

Comments

Most Popular of All Time

The Compass of Cuba: Mom

🎄  Preview of this week's  On the Fly  blog: A Holiday Tribute to Mom. As the holidays hustle with pixels and beeps, the world scrolls along in a smartphone-y sleep. I log off for a moment—just one little minute— To breathe in the past and to sit myself in it. My mind doesn’t wander to faraway places, Or trips full of tickets and new airport faces. Instead, it drifts backward, as memories do, to Cuba, Illinois, where the best moments grew. To a home full of warmth, in the wintry Midwest, Where my mother—dear “Marcie”—put love to the test. With a smile that could melt the most frigid of dawns, and hugs that hung on you like shivering fawns. She came from La Rochelle in France, brave and bright, Across oceans and war shadows, into new light. A town full of strangers soon felt like her own, And her courage built up the foundation of home. “Oh yes, we know Marcie!” the locals would say— “It's Doc Ball’s French lady! She brightens the day!” She cleaned, and she cooked, and sh...

Believing Is Seeing

🎄 In this episode, Believing Is Seeing . . . It's December, we bustle, we wrap, and we dash. We sort life into boxes— myths  here,  to-dos  in a stash. We whisper of Santa (adult code: “Not Real”), but hold on one minute—let’s rethink this whole deal. For the stories we cherish, the movies we stream, hold more truth in their sparkle than we grown-ups may deem. So hop in this sleigh and hold on real tight— We’re chasing down Santa by the glow of his light! Scott Calvin once landed in the North Pole’s cold air, with elves, cocoa, and snow everywhere. He squinted and frowned—“This just  cannot  be so!” (Like thinking tangled lights will detangle if we  blow .) Then Judy the Elf gave a cocoa so steaming,  and said something simple . . . yet surprisingly gleaming: Seeing’s not believing—no, that’s not the key. "Believing is seeing!"   Just trust, and  you’ll  see!” Kids don’t need a map or a satellite screen to know Santa’s workshop is her...

Stamps and Snow

In this episode, Stamps and Snow . . .   You don’t usually walk into the local Post Office expecting a time warp . . . but here we are. All we wanted were stamps for this year's Christmas cards— yes, the old-fashioned paper ones that require licking, sticking, and hoping the Postal Service is feeling ambitious this week. But holiday errands have a talent for slowing you down, almost like the universe whispering, “Relax. You’re not getting out of this line any faster anyway.” So we waited. And while we waited, we talked (Are you surprised?). Because the Post Office is one of the few places where people still look up from their phones long enough to talk . . . Maybe it's because they're holding packages. It’s the modern town square: part civic duty, part free entertainment, part sociology experiment. The discussion began with holiday specials streaming on Netflix, Paramount+, and other services during this time of year. One gentleman who has lived in Vista since 1958 told us,...

A Holiday Reflection–Mother's Love

In this episode,  How a Mother’s Love Built My Memories– A Holiday Reflection As this holiday season approaches and the world buzzes with shopping, planning, and busy schedules, I find myself embracing something wonderfully simple: taking a moment to pause. Not to check off a list or recharge devices, but to breathe deeply, remember fondly, and honor the person and place that have shaped my sense of home long before I had the words for it. This year, after regaining my strength from a lingering post-travel fog, my mind didn’t wander to exotic destinations or future adventures. It drifted backward—across oceans and time—to Cuba, Illinois, in the early 1960s, and to the woman whose love built the foundation of my world: Mauricette Elaine (Bontemps) Ball. My Mom . We came to Cuba after leaving La Rochelle, France, in 1959—a transition so dramatic I only appreciate its enormity now. My mother, barely in her mid-twenties, stepped off that plane and into the Midwest with a courage that s...