Riding my age

Published by the Times-Georgian–May 20, 2018

http://www.times-georgian.com

by Joe Garrett

 

It’s my birthday.

Well, actually it’s not today, but as I write these words it is. I’m now 49 years old and my legs hurt like hell.

It’s my fault.

When I turned 41 years old, I started a new tradition of riding my bicycle on my birthday. The first year I rode 41 miles on the Silver Comet Trail to prove to myself I still had a little mojo left. It was a great ride until the end.

I had a wreck.

Year after year, I’ve continued to ride my age—42 on my 42^nd, 43 on my 43^rd and so on. And I’ve always concluded my ride by eating two pieces of fried poultry at Big Chic.

I usually ride alone, but on my 47^th birthday my Yankee friend Jim Naughton joined me where we rode from Carrollton to almost the Alabama state line and back. My mother always told me to “be sweet and kind,” but on this day I said enough choice words to make my New York friend turn red as we rode through the rolling hills of the Kansas, Burwell and Tyus communities scorched by the Georgia heat. Jim didn’t speak to me for almost three months afterwards.

Which brings me to 2018. Yes. I rode 49 miles alone plus one to grow on. Thank God the weather was mild.

It sounds impressive, but in reality, I can hear my mother still saying, “One day I hope you get over Fool’s Hill.”

From now on I plan to find a new way to celebrate the big day. Next year I’ll make up a good excuse and find something easier like suckering Times-Georgian columnist Steve Davis into buying my breakfast. I’ll even focus on the decade ahead as the words of Ann Landers echo in my mind:

“At age 20, we worry about what others think of us,” she wrote. “At 40, we don’t care what they think of us. At 60, we discover they haven’t been thinking of us at all.”

I love birthdays because I enjoy getting older. Let’s face it. As a teenager, I was really stupid. My 20s were a blur. My 30s kicked me into adulthood with marriage, children and building a business. My 40s were filled with the joys of parenting and the pains of tragedy and grief.

“I’ll make sure to have some soothing background music playing for you when we do your colonoscopy later this year,” my gastrointestinal photographer Dr. Howard Seeman told me last week.

“Can’t wait,” I replied. “Bring on the MiraLAX.”

Who knows what I’ll learn or what curveballs life will throw at me in the years ahead? All I know is I’ve learned a few things along the way:

• Popcorn tastes best when cooked on the stove.
• A good pair of shoes should never hurt your feet.
• Buy the best toilet paper you can afford.
• Young engaged couples should never schedule their wedding during college football season.
• A Willie Nelson song can lift your spirit when you’re down.
• Prayers don’t hurt at a funeral, but hugs go a lot further.
• When speaking to an audience of adults, pretend they’re all children.
• When speaking to an audience of children, pretend they’re adults.
• A little grease never hurts anything or anyone.
• Always have a plan.

So here I go again. Hopefully, I still have a few more laps around the sun until I say “Adios.” I have a lot to learn. In the meantime, I’m going to rest my legs and maybe find a good masseuse so I can walk again.

A colonoscopy awaits on the horizon.