Somehow, the bicycle marks some key moments in our lives. The one when you become "grown up" as soon as you take off the auxiliary wheels or the one, much later, when you realize that you are too old to pedal those two wheels. You remember the first one forever, and the second one you fear more and more as every day passes...
But there is also this current one, at least for me, which is closely related to what they call the ‘’midlife crisis’’. Every day, the body reminds more and more that it has an expiration date, everything clicks and creaks, and life has become very "serious" - children, loans and obligations take their toll in time and money, so at the end of the day, the only thing possible is to fall on couch in front of the TV and (not) watch.
Time has passed to do something big, something memorable and grandiose... Something brave...
Or maybe not?
When I look in the mirror, a few minutes before I walk out the door, I realize that it probably doesn't get much more braver than putting tight cycling clothes on a middle-aged, untrained body. Thin and crooked legs, tight leggings that reveal more than they hide, a jersey for which the manufacturer should receive a special award because it didn't tear itself apart trying to keep the beer belly in place, "man-boobs" each on its own side... And under the mushroom-like helmet and unnecessary aero glasses, I still smile with satisfaction... My bike is waiting for me in the garage... It doesn't matter how many kilometers, alone or in a good company, into the known or the unknown. As the famous Eddy Merckx would say: "Just ride".
When I got back on my bike just before my forties, I rode about 10 kilometers, and I wasn't sure if I would be able to return home because of the pain in my legs, arms, and ass. Now, 3 years later, I am preparing for Paris-Brest-Paris, one of the most famous organized cycling fondo events in the world. A little over 1,200 km in a time limit of 90 hours, preferably less. Why? Because I can :-)
For qualification, and preparation in general, you must ride "series" of distances - 200, 300, 400 and 600 km somewhere until the end of June this year. You need to adjust every screw on the bike, choose every little thing for the bicycle, plan your riding strategy every third day, plan for possible discomfort and various problems, diet, sleep... I also need to lose some weight around the waist, if nothing else, so that my jersey fits better. Just maybe. There are many factors to consider in order to make the entire undertaking as memorable and impressive as possible.
It will be difficult, of course, but far from impossible, both for me and for about 20 other cyclists from Croatia and about 8,000 other participants from over 80 countries around the world.
The average age at the last PBP was 50 years. At the age of 43, I belong to the younger part of the field. This is certainly a bonus, but also proof that it is possible...
Until next PBP2023 post, share the road.
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