Cycling Notes #5: The Ride That Changed How I Perceive My Age

“Heading into the mountains?” asked a man at least 20 years my senior.

Both amid our respective Sunday-morning bike rides, we were standing beside a drinking fountain in a park on the northern end of the Odawara Valley, refilling our water bottles in a feeble attempt to recover from the sweltering summer heat.

“Not today,” I replied. “I’m taking it easy. I’m not getting any younger.”

I had recently turned 47.

“You’re young!” he exclaimed, gesturing excitedly with his arms. “You should do everything you can while you still can. Take it from me.”

We proceeded to talk about a variety of topics, including the heat, the neighborhood, and concerns about societal decline (How I can somehow manage to discuss the latter in Japanese yet still fail to fully comprehend Godzilla Minus One without subtitles is beyond me.) As this 10-minute encounter concluded, and we parted ways, it was the conversation about age that stuck with me.

Just a few days before, I was lamenting the fact that more than half of my existence is behind me. However, all it took was a random encounter with a stranger to reveal much-needed perspective.

To someone in their 60s or 70s, a 47-year-old seems young, regardless of how old I might feel. Sure, this sounds obvious, but I think we all need to be reminded of the relativity of age. And whatever age we are, we should all be figuring out how to make the most of our lives.

I didn’t end up cycling in the mountains that day. An intense up-hill ride of that nature in the summer would have demanded better preparation: more water and an earlier departure time, to say the least. It’s important to push ourselves to the limit, but that doesn’t mean we should ignore common sense (another lesson I need to be reminded of from time to time).

However, as I cycled home, the man’s words continued to rattle around in my head.

“Do everything you can while you still can.”

Eventually, those words prompted a smaller adventure. Instead of heading directly home, I turned toward Miyuki Beach on the Odawara coastline. Upon arrival, I parked my bicycle, removed as much of my cycling clothes as legally permissible, and dove into the sea.

This poor-man’s biathlon may not have been as intense as plodding up Hakone Nanamagari to Lake Ashi. However, the water of the refreshingly cool Pacific Ocean washed away the heat of the ride, energizing me for the last leg of my cycling trip.

I may be getting older, but I still have a bit of adventure left in me.