My Own Private Golf Cart

 Grandpa Sid was a badass.  And a sumbitch (his own words), but definitely a badass. He took up running in his 70's and ran (with some walk mixed in) the Capital 10,000 well into his 90's.  The Austin American Statesman, who puts on the race, through kindness, and I imagine, some amount of concern over liability (Honestly, a 93 year-old keeling over during your big race is terrible PR), started providing a golf cart and driver for "Team Sid" around when he was 96.  It allowed him to complete the race at whatever pace he wanted till he was almost 100 years old.  Total badass,

Grandpa Sid for many years had a specific goal - he wanted to "Beat his age."  Meaning, he wanted to finish the 6.2 mile course in no more than the years he had been alive.  (i.e. at 78, he wanted to finish in 78 minutes or less).  As he got a bit older, he did loosen it to finishing within the number of years for which he had at least started.  Grandpa Sid was a big proponent of "I'm now in my 81st year" kinda statement.  So, therefore, at 80, he got that extra minute.  For years, he hit his goal, but as he got older, that got harder.  Certainly, he had the speed during the golf cart years, but in those years, he spent so much time just interacting with the other runners, I doubt he hit his goal.  Nor did he care.

In Grandpa Sid's honor, I started an annual goal of "Ride my age."  I wanted to cycle the number of years I was on my birthday.  I kinda think I may have actually accomplished it once (either at 48 or 49).  At age 50, on my birthday ride, I hit a big patch of mud on the Brushy Creek trail and had a hard spill.  That year, I decided I was 38.  Done.

In recent years, I have had to come to the realization that riding my age is not in my cards.  With my plethora of health things that have come up, riding more than 50 miles in one outing is not where I am these days.  Or, as Jill puts it, "hell no."

So I have had to adapt to my own private golf cart.  Cue B-52's.  Meaning, I can ride my age during the week of my birthday.  And to make it special, I add one to grow on, cause god knows I need one to grow on each year at this point.  So, for example, last year, for 55, I rode 30 miles on Saturday and 26 on Sunday.  boom (little b).  This year, I rode 35 miles the Sunday before my birthday and 24 miles on my birthday (adding a few extra to grow on).  boom.  Someday I hope to get back to the original goal.  Or conversely, be around long enough that someone, out of respect or fear for my safety, rents a golf cart to follow me each year.