After a few seconds I regained my sanity and continued on, cursing the pussification of our society. That got me thinking about, "when I was a kid." Then of course I remembered my bike: The Ross Apollo Racer. Yes, you should give the title its due reverence and capitalize each word. Mine was a yellow one-speed with a two-tiered banana seat in order that your passenger could see over your head. I didn't own a helmet until I was in my late 20's. Took my bike over some sweet jumps, off a diving board, down snowy hills, over snowbank ramps, you name it and wiped out often and hard. It taught you quickly how to fall and more importantly how to land. Damn I miss that bike.
A short ode to Apollo both bike and God: Tis Apollo comes leading/His choir; the Nine/The leader is fairest/But all are divine.
After a short ride and some bikes of days gone by reminiscing (could someone please cue that "Memories" song...you know, "of the way we were" song...forget it if you can but it is in your craw now) I transitioned into a short run.
Down the path I could see a horse approaching. I love horses; don't have much to say about the entitled people in the saddle though. A fiftyish woman of silver curly hair looked down and said, "Wowwwww, you look just like Spider Man," and continued on without acknowledging my light and airy "Good morning."
Spiderman? What the...?
I looked down though and got it. I had black tights on, a tight black top, a black skull cap, black gloves and black Oakleys on. I was upset at the lack of a witty response on my part and doubly upset when I realized that it is the off season from serious training and the tight black top wasn't supposed to be tight. Frick!
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