I bicycled to work in the morning and worked a long day on my feet in the mail room printing reports and documents then running all over the building to deliver them. It was a very long day.
I was glad to be off work and was looking forward to getting home. My bike ride was peaceful and relaxing after such a busy day. As I was rolling through a shady neighborhood I heard the familiar sound of pat, pat, pat over my shoulder. It was the footsteps of a jogger who was catching up to me. I was not in the mood for the humiliation of being caught up to by a jogger, so I changed gears and stood on the cranks to give it all I had. As the muscles in my legs groaned in protest the sound of the runner receded away behind me.
With satisfaction I kept the effort up and listened to the sound of the jogger growing faint behind me. My route turned a corner and went a ways to the foot of a small hill. I was tired and eased up a bit- the hill was going to be really hard.
I changed gears to tackle the hill and set my pace for a not too easy conquest when I heard the runner approaching. Muttering a word I shouldn't have said under my breath I stood on the cranks and gave it all I had left. It must not have been enough because over my shoulder I could still hear the pat, pat, pat, of the approaching athlete. The hill seemed to grow in my mind and become steeper than I ever remember it to be. The pat, pat, pat grew louder, it was no longer behind me but beside me.
I couldn't be overtaken and strained my legs against the cranks while I pulled against the handlebars. I pulled away but only for a moment. I couldn't keep the struggle up, and just slipped into a pace to keep me moving forward but my speed was declining.
The wiry form of the marathoner passed me by. I looked to my right to see who it was that had the strength to pass me while climbing a hill, and saw the white hair and thin form of an old man in his seventies. I shifted into my easiest gear and took it easy the rest of the way.
I was glad to be off work and was looking forward to getting home. My bike ride was peaceful and relaxing after such a busy day. As I was rolling through a shady neighborhood I heard the familiar sound of pat, pat, pat over my shoulder. It was the footsteps of a jogger who was catching up to me. I was not in the mood for the humiliation of being caught up to by a jogger, so I changed gears and stood on the cranks to give it all I had. As the muscles in my legs groaned in protest the sound of the runner receded away behind me.
With satisfaction I kept the effort up and listened to the sound of the jogger growing faint behind me. My route turned a corner and went a ways to the foot of a small hill. I was tired and eased up a bit- the hill was going to be really hard.
I changed gears to tackle the hill and set my pace for a not too easy conquest when I heard the runner approaching. Muttering a word I shouldn't have said under my breath I stood on the cranks and gave it all I had left. It must not have been enough because over my shoulder I could still hear the pat, pat, pat, of the approaching athlete. The hill seemed to grow in my mind and become steeper than I ever remember it to be. The pat, pat, pat grew louder, it was no longer behind me but beside me.
I couldn't be overtaken and strained my legs against the cranks while I pulled against the handlebars. I pulled away but only for a moment. I couldn't keep the struggle up, and just slipped into a pace to keep me moving forward but my speed was declining.
The wiry form of the marathoner passed me by. I looked to my right to see who it was that had the strength to pass me while climbing a hill, and saw the white hair and thin form of an old man in his seventies. I shifted into my easiest gear and took it easy the rest of the way.
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