I am getting old. I know this to be true because my youngest daughter just moved up to a 26 inch wheeled bike. Allie picked it out for the most part. Pink is her favorite color and we looked at pink bikes but she said she didn't want a bike that looked like it was right out of a box (her words, not mine). Allie wanted a white bike so we could customize it with pink cable housings, grips, and water bottle cages. Words can't adequately express how proud I am.
Shortly after we assembled the bike I went to
California for work, again. San Francisco is beautiful and the weather is perfect and the food is amazing and everyone is fit and rides carbon-fiber Cervelos with full SRAM Red but I have been to California enough times that I shrug these things off with luke-warm indifference.
San Francisco still made me self-conscious over my lack of fashion sense, and I had just relayed that thought to a friend back home when I saw three men in assless leather chaps. Suddenly I didn't care I wasn't on the cutting edge of West Coast style. I like California. I'm concerned it could be devastated by an earthquake. I'm much more concerned that Iceman is five weeks away and I am not ready.
This was my first business trip where I didn't rent a bike to take advantage of riding opportunities; the logistics seemed a bit much. I did a few uninspired rides on a stationary bike in the Hyatt's workout area. I'm afraid my change in attitude is just another atrocity of getting old.
Your daughter has excellent taste in color combinations!
ReplyDeleteI know right, like your cross bike I think. She has Nevegal tires. I'm gushing.
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